Planar Chaos 2- Portal Saga
by NoisyKrickett
Summary: Our Chaos Crew continues their adventures in the aftermath of the Xerex Incident. The struggle for control of Urza's portal sphere rages across Kamigawa and Ravnica. Rated M for potential triggering content related to relationships.
1. Chapter 1

Planar Chaos

The Portal Saga

Chapter 1: Sverre's Celebration

"Dear do you think these flowers are too much?" Oona called to Sverre from across the room. The once barren palace situated in Helheim, the land of the dead, was now overgrown with vines and various other plants that enjoyed a cool, wet, shady environment.

"Darling, you may do as you please. This palace is your home, my gift to you to beautify as you see fit. I would tear it down and remake Glen Elendra if you decreed it." Sverre stood in the doorway watching his wife arrange the pale blossoms with her delicate hands. Helheim was inhabited only by zombies and dumb beasts, and the Guardians residing in Azheim hadn't been down to the land of the dead in over two hundred years. Sverre wondered if they could even tell the difference between Oona and the Guardian he had murdered, Ehla. "I'm retiring to my study for some time. Our guests should be arriving soon."

He ducked out of the doorway and down a series of winding hallways, each one constructed of the same dark blue stone that winked with flecks of silver. High arches held up domes and spires. The palace had been far too grand for Ehla's purposes, Sverre thought, but it served him just fine.

The study was less of a study and more of a large alchemical laboratory lit by sporadic candle light. It had been a ballroom of sorts, though what a region inhabited by death needed a ballroom for Sverre couldn't say. Perhaps this building had once existed in Medheim, the world of mortals above, and it had perished in some earthquake or Ragnarok only to be reborn in the land of the dead.

Several human-sized brass containment tanks that were obviously borrowed from Odom's personal stash were set up in the corners, the glass viewing windows frosted over to prevent prying eyes from seeing the desiccated corpses within. These were past Guardians, born out of Yggdrasil from the souls of fallen heroes chosen by the Valkyries during each Ragnarok. Sverre had only witnessed two of these events in his lifetime, and each time they provided him with new material for his experiments. Every hundred years the Guardians and the forces of destruction led by Sverre's favored pet Jormungandr engaged in a massive war that only ended when everyone on both sides had fallen. Sverre had been ordering Jormungandr to bring him the Guardians directly rather than waiting for them to be interred and appear as nothing more than mundane zombies. This way he might be able to access the true source of their immortality.

Guardians could be killed in battle, but they knew no age nor illness. They were born fully formed from the world tree ready to protect a world who eagerly awaited their sacrifice. Sverre caught his reflection in the metal of a tank and frowned. His skin had grown paler as of late and had begun to pull at his cheekbones. There were dark circles under his eyes as well. And was that a liver spot? He shuddered, rushing to a dark wood cabinet, flinging it open. Inside sat rows upon rows of a silvery, glowing serum in neatly stoppered crystal phials. He struggled with the cork of the first one he grabbed, and in his impatience smashed it onto a table covered in delicate glass instruments that would distill more of the serum from the Guardians' bodies. Sverre eagerly licked the serum off of his shaking hands, a wild light in his eyes.

Catching his breath, Sverre turned back to the cabinet and calmly took out another phial. He twisted the cork and it popped out with a sound sweeter than champagne and burned like a shot of whiskey going down.

"I must not let myself get carried away like that," he laughed. "What would my friends say if they saw me scrambling about like a vampire in need of blood?"

"I'd say I've seen worse," Odom said, his voice echoing through the chamber.

Sverre went white.

"Don't worry, dude," Odom said, "I won't tell anyone." He clapped Sverre on the shoulder.

"Well you see how I've been. How about yourself?"

"Eh, I had to hire a new assistant. Again."

"That's the third one in two months?"

"It's more like six in Ravnica time, but yeah. Still a high turnover rate. I can't help it, Sverre, it's hard to find someone who lives up to her."

"You mean it's hard to find someone who has your level of disregard for ethics."

"That too…"

"Did you reach out to Kyari?"

"I have," Odom sighed. "But she's been preoccupied with finding Brock. And Marthel's spent the last three weeks in and out of the Cult of Rakdos. I have no clue where to find Lisandra, then again nobody knows what the hell you're talking about when you say House Dimir on Ravnica anyway. I never would have known about them without having the ear of one Niv Mizzet."

"Any word on Rinok or the artifact?"

"None. I know he went back to Valla, or at least I think he did, but I don't know where it is." Odom sighed again. "You know how terrifying it is planeswalking to a plane you've never been to. It might not even be where you think it is."

"Sa'Raah?"

"Tarkir, likely. Sarkhan hardly leaves the plane these days and from what we gathered in the maze they're romantically involved."

"This isn't good at all," Sverre pouted. "I went to all this trouble to set up a celebration of life for your poor little creation and you're the only guest who bothered to come. You could have at least found Ashleigh and gotten her to show up."

"I keep telling you all I'm not her keeper, just her friend."

"Still going with that, huh? Anyone can see you guys are more than friends."

"Okay, so we mess around sometimes."

"You miss her. You spent years making her a present that could only be brought to life when she decided to come back. You defend her at every turn, and I heard you say you love her. Face it, Odom. You've got a girlfriend. An actual girlfriend, and I'm honestly quite proud of how much you've grown not only as a planeswalker but as a man. The reason your assistants aren't working out is because you don't want an assistant, you want a partner."

Odom looked off to the side, searching anything to not meet Sverre's eyes. He'd always considered himself too busy for actual attachments. People were like variables in an experiment, they could be changed until the right result was achieved, but replacing Ash hadn't worked at all. It was practical to keep looking for new assistants rather than waiting around on a partner who might never show up, but did he really want to do that?

"You have a lot of thinking to do, so I'll leave you to it. I have a feeling I'm needed in the grand foyer." Sverre brushed past Odom and made his way back along the darkened halls.

Leaning against the wall talking idly with Oona was Marthel, accompanied by a very distraught Kyari.

"Friends, welcome to my home. I see you left your angel at home, Marthel. I hope she isn't too worried about you. The confines of my realm are some of the safest on this entire plane," Sverre said grandly.

"I'm just pleased to finally be invited to your house, Sverre, although being underground doesn't really sit well with Kyari."

"Can you not smell it?" Kyari asked Oona. "Death everywhere. It's nauseating."

"That's what the flowers are for," Oona said, stroking a petal lovingly. "Besides, without death on this plane there would be no new life. When creatures die their bodies wind up here to be consumed by fungi and brought back into the great tree."

"But… there are zombies."

"Just a quirk of the magic," Oona explained. "There is an endless cycle of birth and death, war and peace, order and chaos. Each time the cycle turns to war, death, and chaos, the zombies here take up arms and follow Jormungandr to the surface to clash with the Guardians living above in the tree branches."

"That's…" Kyari paused, thinking about all the different forms in which she had encountered the balance of nature. "That's actually quite beautiful. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. But how does this cycle avoid meaningless death?"

"The Guardians are reborn from the souls of willing heroes every cycle. Only those who choose to give their lives have to, and from these the Valkyries select candidates to be reborn as Guardians out of the great tree. The Valkyries are sort of like angels, they do have wings and are immortal."

"That's actually where Nadia is now," Kyari said. "She's intrigued by angels of all planes. I hope she doesn't draw too much attention to herself, though."

"She'll be fine. I'm sure the Valkyries will welcome her as a sister. New ones do appear from time to time, and sometimes older ones disappear. There are writings of a Valkyrie without wings who was the most powerful of them all, said to have created them and blessed them with wings to distinguish their purity and valor from other races," Oona explained.

"Let me guess, her name was Serra?" Kyari asked.

"Her name was lost to the ages, but if theories surrounding the ancient planeswalker Serra are correct, it might be an artifact of all planes being connected and a sort of racial memory among all angels."

"Sverre's been teaching you a lot, hasn't he?" Kyari asked.

"No," Oona said, smiling smugly. "I just listen well when he has conversations and forgets I'm in his hood. It's easier to eavesdrop on planes where I'm smaller, though."

"Oona, I'd like to apologize for underestimating you," Kyari said sheepishly.

"No worries. I have become used to people underestimating the fae because we are usually so small."

"Well," Sverre interjected himself into their conversation, "if these are all the guests that will be in attendance, then I suppose the feast should begin. This way to the dining hall."

"I made sure to prepare some plant based dishes for you, Kyari, in case your tribe of elves doesn't dine on animals," Oona informed her.

"Thank you, Oona. That's very thoughtful."

"I've encountered many different creatures on my travels. It never hurts to be prepared."

Odom was already inside. A large banner painted with the words "CELEBRATING ABBY" hung across the dining hall and a long mahogany table piled high with roasted meats, boats of soup, bowls of fresh fruit, and a rather ambitious centerpiece of vegetables assembled to form a swan with bright red cherry tomatoes for eyes greeted the guests.

"I had planned for all eight of us to be present, obviously excluding Rinok and his ilk. Not that they would come, anyway. They'd view this as a trap. And it would have been a good one. We could have recovered the artifact." Sverre said, taking his seat at the head of the table. Oona took her seat to his right.

Kyari sat down beside Oona, "Does it bother you that he forgot about you?" She whispered.

"He means eight planeswalkers. I obviously would be here. See, there are ten chairs."

"Can we actually start talking business, Sverre?" Marthel asked sharply.

"First, a toast," Sverre insisted. He stood and raised his golden goblet, filled to the brim with blood red wine. "We are here today to honor a valiant creature who is no longer with us. Of course, I am speaking of our dear friend Odom's creation, Abby. Abby came into this world only looking to be loved and many of us here did just that, we showered the creature with affection, eager to see what it might choose to become. But there were others whose selfish actions have now cost us the company of such an adorable being. When all Abby wanted to do was help us, they saw its actions only as malicious. They were clouded by bias and-"

"If this is just going to be a let's bash Brock hour, I'm leaving, Sverre," Kyari said.

"Agreed," Marthel said. "We need to talk about more serious matters, Sverre."

"Did any of you think this might be serious for Odom?" Sverre barked.

Every eye in the room turned to the unusually withdrawn mad scientist.

"Sverre, this is great and all, but I've already come to terms with what happened. I was ready for it the second it happened. The person who needs this kind of thing isn't here right now, and none of us know where to find her, so we can dispense with the frivolity and actually talk about serious matters. The artifact."

"We know Rinok has the artifact, or we think he does," Marthel said. "It wasn't around after the rest of you left, and I saw Ashleigh talking to him before he left. I'm thinking he took it and when she tried to stop him, he somehow threatened her into submission. It would have had to be a pretty powerful threat, because usually she doesn't know when to quit."

"Yeah," Odom said, "those self-destructive tendencies of hers."

"What do you make of what she cried out at the end before planeswalking, Odom. She said 'that wasn't what I wanted at all,' or something similar." Marthel picked at his food.

"When things don't go her way she tends to get a bit emotional," Odom said.

"A bit?" Kyari almost spit out her celery soup, which would have been a shame since it was delicious. She detected hints of Innistrad garlic, and some variants of thyme and fennel.

"Okay. A lot. She'll go off by herself for a while, adopt some new persona, and try to forget it all. She was a pirate captain on Alara for a while after we left, Kyari. Her nobility phase on Innistrad lasted a few years. She keeps coming back to Ravnica to try and get a place in the Izzet guild, which would be pretty easy considering Niv likes her well enough. She impresses him every time, and nearly explodes every time. Two things he likes." Odom explained around his mouthful of bread.

"So, she's unstable and runs off a lot when things don't go her way. Do you think she went after Rinok?" Kyari asked.

"Doubtful," Marthel said. "None of us have any idea about his plans, so she'd be running in blind which isn't the smart thing to do."

"If you'll recall," Oona spoke up, "she did serve under me as a sort of military commander. Running in blind was her specialty. Improvising proved to be her best tactic. It's likely she went after Rinok and that she's working on a way to retrieve the artifact and stop him."

"Oona, dear," Sverre smiled patronizingly, "it's been a long time since she was your little lieutenant."

"Sverre, do not patronize me. You don't know how to think about children."

"She's hardly a child," Marthel pointed out.

"Compared to me," Oona said, locking eyes one by one with every planeswalker in the room, "you are all children. Rinok will want to cement his victories, correct? To prove his dominance by disrupting natural processes and inciting eternal war? My guess is that he will want to start somewhere he has failed before."

"Kamigawa," Kyari breathed.

"What?" Sverre asked.

"When I first met Rinok, he was trying to incite another Kami War, but from what Tamiyo and Narset have told me, that effort failed. It was featured during one of their story circles with Ajani and Elspeth, may she rest in peace."

"Whoa hold up," Marthel sat upright. "Elspeth is dead?"

"You didn't know? Heliod, the Sun God of Theros, killed her after she went on a quest for him."

"I knew he killed someone, but…" Marthel grew quiet. "She was a hero to my people, to Bant. She wasn't born one of us, but she still saved countless people. That's… I… I never liked that guy…"

"That's all you can say? You never liked him?" Odom said, confused.

"What else am I supposed to say? I can't kill a god," Marthel said. "Not without a weapon of a god."

"You don't think Rinok would go after the Godsend, would he?" Kyari asked.

"No," Sverre said emphatically. "He has no reason to do that. If he's going to Kamigawa, they have plenty of ways to commit acts of violence against the spirits there to start another Kami War. The portal could help him move his forces from Valla, or at least a small portion of his generals. I don't think he'd take his whole army out of that fight, someone has to keep their endless cycle going."

"So he's going to use the artifact to move pieces of his army from Valla to Kamigawa. That's literally all we've got," Odom said.

"It's a starting point," Kyari said. "We at least know what we can do."

"We?" Odom asked.

"You're not coming?" Kyari asked, aghast at the suggestion.

"You've been spending too much time with Brock. I don't have a horse in this race. I just want the artifact so I can show my face in Niv Mizzet's audience chamber again. Stolen Simic technology that will make the other green aligned guilds obsolete can only get me so far." Odom leaned back in his chair. "Wars on other planes aren't in my wheelhouse. Go find the Jacestice League for that."

"He means the Gatewatch," Marthel said.

"But we're going to be responsible for the destruction he visits upon Kamigawa," Kyari said.

"Not really," Sverre said. "We merely lost possession of an artifact that allows people who are not planeswalkers to move between planes. If I recall, there was a young man during the War of Mirran Resistance who was trying to do the same thing."

"You met Venser?" Marthel said.

"In passing. Shame about his health, he was one smart cookie." Sverre took a bite out of his leg of lamb.

"I cannot believe either of you," Kyari said. She pushed her chair back and stormed out of the room.

"I had better follow her, Marthel stammered. "She probably just needs some air."

"Oh, I need more than just air, Marthel," Kyari called. "I need new friends."

"Look, let me find Nadia first and then we can go straight to the Oboro Palace. Tamiyo should be home, we can warn her."

Odom and Sverre were left alone. Oona quietly sipped her own bowl of soup, glancing back and forth between them.

"I think that went well," Oona said sarcastically.

"At least someone got spurred to action," Sverre said, grinning. "I would go, but I'm needed here. My experiments are far too delicate for me to leave them for an extended period of time right in the middle of the distillation process."

"I don't get why everyone keeps dragging me into stuff like this. I just wanted the artifact for my guild. I still want it. But there's really not much else I can do when it comes to a war. I'm not really a fighter, you saw that, right?" Odom said.

"I do recall that one time you impersonated Brock and freaked him out quite a bit," Sverre said.

"So I can morph myself into people. Did they want me to volunteer as a spy or something? Like that was going to happen."

"Odom," Oona said, "I think right now Kyari and Marthel are feeling pretty alone and all they want are some allies."

"I don't want to get involved with this, though. This isn't my fight."

"If Rinok succeeds, where do you think he'll stop?" Oona asked.

Sverre and Odom passed a knowing look between them. They both had the answer.

He wouldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 2: Home

"Master Narset, why did you even bring me here?" Brock asked, following his mentor as she led him up a mountain with only cryptic answers to his questions. He felt like he was a child again, unable to understand any of Ojutai's teachings.

"There are things at the top of this mountain you need to confront, Brock," she replied. The wind whipped at her dark hair and tugged at the edges of her robes. Despite the snow, she didn't seem cold. None of them ever did. Brock had often wondered if it had something to do with the ice breath of their dragonlord's brood.

Narset leapt from the crag on which she had been balanced, grasping another small outcropping that had been just out of reach. Brock hadn't ever been as graceful while climbing, but what he lacked in form he made up for in power. Brock set his sights on a spot higher up the mountain than his mentor had achieved and jumped for it. Narset's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, throwing him off balance and causing him to miss his mark. He instead found purchase on a level similar to that of his mentor.

"Life is not a competition, Brock," she said curtly.

"Tell that to Taigam," Brock muttered.

"He has been appraised of that fact time and time again by both myself and Master Ojutai," Narset said as they continued their climb. "What you now need is to learn from his mistakes and your own."

"What do you mean my mistakes," Brock asked, pulling himself over a large rock to see Narset embracing Kyari.

"I'm glad you could make it, Kyari," Narset said.

"I'm just glad you got him up here, Wanderer, I mean Narset." Kyari blushed.

"Kyari?"

"Hello, Brock. I have something you need to hear."

Narset took a step back and let the pair converse in relative solitude.

"Why did you have to get Narset to bring me up here?" Brock asked.

"Because you wouldn't listen to me otherwise. I've been trying to find you for months and every time I've tried to see you, you've told my messengers you're too busy training."

"Wait, we're on top of a mountain. Kyari you have to be freezing!" Brock moved towards her, but out of the collar of her shirt and her sleeves poked the heads of small dragons.

"I'll be fine. These little guys are on loan from Sa'Raah. She and Sarkhan are nursing a small brood at the moment."

"Wait… she didn't…?"

Kyari's face immediately fell. "What? Oh, heavens no! These are a species of Faerie Dragon native to Shandalar. How would… Dude, your mind needs to get out of the gutter."

"Been telling him that for years," Narset interjected.

"Nobody asked you. Stop acting like my mother," Brock barked. He wished he could take the words back when he saw the hurt on Narset's face.

"About your mother," Kyari said, "that's why I came. We have to go to Kamigawa, to the Oboro Palace. We have to warn them that Rinok is going to start his interplanar campaign there, and try to recover the artifact if we can."

"Tamiyo is not my mother," Brock growled.

"She raised you, didn't she?"

"Only distantly. All the Soratami had a hand in my raising. She was gone too much."

"I highly doubt that, but okay," Kyari said. "But whatever. We just need to go. Now."

"I…" Brock looked at his feet. His exposed toes weren't even cold in the snow. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I haven't been home in quite some time, Kyari, not since I left the first time."

"All the more reason to go back. You need to see your family again."

"I did see Tamiyo once, a while ago on Innistrad, before it went to hell in a handbasket. It didn't end well."

"You just need to go home and say you're sorry."

"Have you gone home?"

"I have, and I had to leave Primey there because he's getting too big for me to planeswalk with him all the time." Kyari rubbed her temples in frustration, dislodging some of the baby dragons keeping her warm. "Look, you just need to come with me. Kamigawa is your home and there is a chance to save it. Please. Don't you want to save a world?"

"I do," Brock said.

"Just not this one? How is that fair? Why are their lives not worth your intervention? Because of some childhood grudge about your mommy not paying enough attention to you?"

"That's not it," Brock said.

"Yes it is," Kyari replied angrily. "It is. Whenever the topic comes up you won't talk about it. You brood in corners, complain about how nobody sees what you see in the world, but it's all just an act so you can play the loner hero and martyr yourself for a worthy cause. I'm sick of it, Brock, and not just because I thought we had something. I'm sick of it because it means that you place a value on peoples' lives. Certain people deserve to live more than others? By whose metric? It's ridiculous, and if you can't see that then you're no better than Rinok. You've taken justice and community and corrupted them into a twisted version of themselves where only a handful benefit. What is wrong with you?" Her voice had risen throughout her speech and now echoed off the surrounding mountains. Over and over, Brock was assaulted with her final question. "What is wrong with you?" rang in his ears.

After a long pause, Brock finally answered her. "I don't know. Personally, I don't see anything, but I'll go with you if it means finding out."

"So we're agreed then?" Narset asked timidly. Kyari's rising volume had frightened the more experienced planeswalker in a way she didn't know she could be frightened. Underneath the elf's calm exterior was a righteous fury. Given the right triggers, she could be pushed to action, unlike Tamiyo who had to be pulled and prodded every step of the way. It was a trait Narset found unable to admire in the Soratami planeswalker despite her many other commendable qualities.

"Agreed. We go to Kamigawa. Right now," Brock said.

000000

"Genku, can you get the door?" Tamiyo called. She pulled her ears through her plaits so they rested comfortably on her shoulders without pulling.

"Of course, dear," Genku said. He opened the door and was completely surprised by what he saw.

His first child, the little boy Tamiyo had brought home from a battle torn village after they first got married, stood before him all grown up. How long had it been since he disappeared? Years? Genku felt a well spring up inside him, wanting to reach out and embrace his first son, but at the same time reach out and strike him like the disobedient child he was.

Despite his usual eloquence, all the male Soratami could manage was squeaking out "Baraq?"

Brock was taken aback. It had been a long time since either Genku or Tamiyo had bothered pronouncing his name any differently than he had as a child.

"Yeah, it's me, Genku."

"And you've brought a girl with you? Oh, hello, Kyari, forgive me for not recognizing you."

"That's okay, Genku. I know this comes as a shock for both of you."

"I need to go get your mother, she'll want to talk to you," Genku said, leading them into the house. "Have a seat. We've pulled the kotatsu out again, since it's winter down below. I know you used to love those, Brock."

Kyari, Brock, and Narset filed into what had once been a family dining area and Genku slid the door closed behind them. The central space of the room had been taken up by a small, square table with a blanket laid over it, the eponymous kotatsu. Each of them took a side, leaving only one open for Tamiyo when she decided to join them.

"Tamiyo," Genku said, poking his head through the doorway that led to their room, "you'll never believe who is here."

"Is it Narset or Ajani? We just saw them a short time ago, unless Ajani has returned from his exploits on Kaladesh."

"Narset is here, yes, but she's brought Kyari with her, as well as our son."

Tamiyo frowned. "Baraq hasn't considered us his parents in a very long time, Genku."

"That doesn't mean he isn't our child just as much as Hiroku or Nashi. Tamiyo, our boy has come home, and this has to be awkward for him just as much as it is for us."

Tamiyo sighed and closed her eyes. How long had it been since she's last seen Brock? That day on Innistrad seemed a lifetime ago now that the plane was almost wholly unrecognizable. The eldrazi threat had been mostly neutralized, but she couldn't bear to think of that sigil now obscuring the heron in the moon. She'd examined the scroll after Emrakul's meddling and couldn't find any difference in it. How had she done such a thing, such a powerful feat of magic? Tamiyo shuddered as she recalled the clouding of her mind when the entity had taken it over.

And what of the jumbled mess Brock had told her about his spark igniting? It seemed almost as if he'd described the loss of Meloku's pearl, but that event was eons ago. Was there a way that a dream could be a catalyst for such an event? She had told the children that story before bed, only waking up to find Brock missing and no sign of his having left.

Then Narset began bringing her tales of a new student, a planeswalker like themselves who devoted himself to study but still lacked the level of control he desired. It seemed out of his reach. She'd asked Tamiyo for advice, but truthfully the Soratami had none. All the methods she and her kin had attempted with Brock failed miserably and he grew more and more distant with time. He treated everything like a competition, there were winners and losers, right and wrong, and objective morality wasn't something Tamiyo even believed existed. Were the Gatewatch's actions on Innistrad, or their continued presence on Kaladesh, even right? Was it their place as planeswalkers to even meddle in the affairs of other planes or were they supposed to be impartial observers, recording history and preserving it as she did?

These thoughts bounced around her head as she took short, deliberate steps down the hallway to their dining room while Genku began heating water to serve tea. Returning to Kamigawa and its superior teas had been one of many reliefs of leaving Innistrad. That plane knew nothing of subtle notes, their tea was harsh and designed to amp people up rather than relax the body and mind. She would need something to calm her down, something to calm everyone down, for whatever the conversation would have to offer.

She stopped in front of the door and listened, her ears perking up slightly to let in more sound.

"Brock, stop fidgeting," Kyari said.

"I can't help it, okay?"

"Is this how you want your mother to see you? Twitchy and nervous?"

"She's not my mother."

Tamiyo's hand rested on her heart and she felt a tear sting her eye. Hearing him say it, even though he'd finally come home, hurt more than she expected.

"Brock, I know that she isn't your mother by blood, but Tamiyo and the Soratami still raised you. I can assure you that she loves you dearly, just as much as she loves all her children," Narset said.

"Oh please. When she finally had her own kids, I know she forgot all about me."

"That's not entirely true, Baraq," Tamiyo said, opening the door. She closed it gently behind her and took a seat at the empty place they'd left for her around the kotatsu, next to Brock on his right facing the door. "I've told them all many stories about their older brother and his adventures in the multiverse, mostly what Narset has relayed to me about your time with the Ojutai. Hiroku in particular is very proud of you. I'm not sure if you remember him."

"He's your oldest, right?" Brock asked.

"Second eldest, after you of course," Tamiyo corrected. "Then there's little Rumiyo who is convinced at this point that 'walking behind the air' as they term planeswalking is a family trait rather than a rare coincidence. She keeps trying to do it and gets horribly disappointed when she fails."

"I'm surprised you haven't set her straight yet," Brock said.

"She's a child, and children deserve to have their fun and let their imaginations flourish. You weren't so different as a child."

"About that," Kyari began, "how did you come to adopt Brock in the first place? I've never heard the full story."

Tamiyo closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. Genku should be almost ready with their tea. Her right eat twitched as she heard his footsteps coming down the hall, stepping carefully so as not to spill the water. Several other sets of steps followed him in a laughing dance of tiny feet.

He slid the door open carefully, setting the pot and cups down as some of the children spilled into the room, piling onto their mother and Narset.

"Is Mr. Cat with you?" Rumiyo asked, surveying the room. When the giant cat was nowhere to be seen, she seemed to deflate a little.

"We heard you had visitors. Do we get more stories?" Hiroku asked.

"I can assure you that you've all heard this story before," Tamiyo said, smiling up at Genku as he poured their tea. "I'd like to introduce you to a new friend, someone you've all heard a great deal about. This is Brock, your oldest brother."

Several pairs of small amber eyes made all the brighter by the slight blue tinge of their near-white skin turned to Brock. Almost instantly he was under a pile of Soratami children, all trying to be heard over the others, speaking too quickly to actually be understood.

Kyari and Narset noticed Tamiyo trying to suppress a fit of giggles.

"Children, please," Genku said, a slight tone of exasperation in his voice, "he can't hear any of you when you shout so."

Brock finally disentangled himself from the children. A couple sat close around him, and those that couldn't find room took up spots on Tamiyo's and Kyari's laps. Brock had yet to notice a pair of dark eyes peering at him from around Genku's legs. The male Soratami looked down and nudged the small form forward.

"Go ahead, Nashi," Genku said softly. "Say hello to Oniisan."

The little nezumi's ears drooped, disliking the attention that had been drawn to him. He revealed his muzzle, but no more. "Konichiwa, Oniisan."

"Nashi's story is surprisingly similar to yours, Brock," Genku said.

"Mother and Father found him after his village had been destroyed by bad people," Rumiyo offered. "He was sick for a long time after they brought him here, but now he's the best at hide-and-seek. Nobody can ever find him."

Kyari noticed the set of Brock's jaw harden and felt his fist clench under the table. There was something on his mind, but for whatever reason he couldn't talk about it in front of the children.

"Children," Narset said, "your parents and brother have a lot to catch up on. Who wants to hear a story in the garden today?"

"But Narset it's cold outside!" Hiroku protested.

"Then we'll take a walk to stay warm."

As Narset herded the children, a reluctant Nashi included, Rumiyo muttered, "It's no fair. She never gets cold." This prompted some quiet laughter from her parents.

Genku settled into the space Narset had vacated. "I would like to believe this is just a casual visit because you missed us, but I take it that isn't the case?"

"So you've got a new charity case now, huh?" Brock said flatly.

"Brock," Kyari cautioned, "now isn't the time."

"Oh, it's always the time, Kyari," Brock replied. "You two think you're so magnanimous, adopting poor rejects and giving them a home. You don't even think about how it makes us feel, do you? The Soratami sit high and mighty in the clouds and pick and choose who they share their gifts with, only they aren't gifts at all. They're a curse. A curse of knowing we'll never be accepted, never be truly yours, never be good enough to be one of the Soratami. We're lesser beings, after all."

"Baraq where is this coming from?" Genku asked.

"It was another planeswalker who destroyed Nashi's village, that's why I took him in," Tamiyo explained.

"Why? Because you felt some twisted responsibility for it? That's a first. Usually you stay out of everything, Tamiyo. The impartial observer. The do-nothing," Brock seethed.

"Is this any way to talk to your parents, young man?" Genku asked, his voice growing harsh.

"I'm not your child. You're not my parents. You picked me up on the side of the road because you felt sorry for me and then tossed me by the wayside when I got to be too much of a handful."

"That isn't true and you know it," Tamiyo responded.

"Do I, Tamiyo? Do I really?"

"Brock, I'm sorry if we hurt you in any way. We were just trying to do what was best for you. Genku and I, we were new at the whole 'parents' thing, and my parents had no more ideas on how to raise a human boy than I did. I thought you needed more socialization with other children your age and that it would make you feel more at home, but I guess I was wrong for enrolling you in that boarding school."

"So I was an experiment, was I?"

"Stop twisting my words," Tamiyo cried. A tear she'd been holding back escaped her eyes. Kyari felt like she should interject somehow, but knew deep down that this wasn't something she could involve herself in. They had to talk this out themselves before the real reason for her and Brock's arrival could be discussed.

"If you cared about me so much, why didn't you come after me?"

"Where would I have even looked? It never crossed my mind that you were a planeswalker, Brock. We're so rare as it is. When Narset told me about you years later, I wanted to come, I really did, but from what she'd gotten out of you, I thought you didn't want to see me. Our meeting on Innistrad confirmed it, but I've always kept tabs on you, I've always been interested in what you were doing, whether you were safe or not," Tamiyo said, allowing the tears to flow freely. Genku reached out and put an arm around his wife but she shrugged it off. "I want you to know that if you were ever in any danger, if I ever thought you weren't capable of taking care of yourself or relying on your friends that I would have come."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Brock said. "You never would have come to help me. I know what happened on Innistrad. Word gets around. You dragged your feet until the very end."

"Where did you hear that from," Tamiyo asked.

"Narset told Kyari."

"To be fair, she didn't say that at all," Kyari clarified. "She said you struggled with the decision about interfering, which I understand because it can have very big consequences."

"It's not always our place to get involved, Brock," Tamiyo said. Genku reached for her hand and she pulled it away. "Genku, I'm fine."

"Tamiyo…" Genku cautioned.

"I said I'm fine." She turned back to Brock. "What I think is right may not be what is actually right for the denizens of a particular plane. We all grow up with different concepts of morality, Brock. There is no objective good or evil. People do the wrong thing for the right reasons all the time, and vise-versa. On a world that is not my own, on a world I do not understand as well as those who were born there, I will not interfere."

"And if what's going on is unnatural? If it's influenced by another planeswalker?" Brock suggested.

"Then I still have no way of knowing if that was not the intended path for that world."

"So," Brock said, talking slowly as he thought, "if some psychopath was going to bring an army to Kamigawa and, oh, I don't know, start another Kami War, you wouldn't get involved?"

Both Genku and Tamiyo stiffened. "What do you mean, son?" Genku asked.

"There's this guy we've met, Rinok is his name, he's been here before and failed miserably, but now he has a way to bring his army from another plane to reignite war here and make it last eternally," Brock explained.

"I was made aware of his meddlings. He did not succeed last time, and he likely won't again," Tamiyo said. "The people here value our peace. If some outsider tried to incite us to war, it wouldn't happen again."

"Are you forgetting your own history, Tamiyo? It was a human who started the Kami War by stealing Kyodai from O-Kagachi. What is to stop him from attempting the same thing? What is to stop him from stealing Kyodai's heart just as Lord Konda stole her from O-Kagachi?" Brock asked furtively.

"There isn't any way for him to cross the barrier to do so, Brock," Genku said. "Kyodai and Princess Michiko became the new barrier after the war and we venerate them just as we venerated O-Kagachi. They are strong together, a strength O-Kagachi never had being only a single Kami."

"Then he'll pierce the barrier somehow, or weaken it and invade. I don't know how, I just know he will. Rinok isn't the kind of man to give up," Kyari said. "We need to prepare, to spread the word."

"And who would believe us?" Tamiyo countered. "An army from beyond our world is coming to destroy the Kami? That sounds too farfetched."

"Nobody is going to listen until it's too late," Brock said, getting up. He was loathe to pull his legs out of the warmth of the kotatsu, but the cold wouldn't bother him much. "Come on, Kyari. We wasted our time."

"You haven't even touched your tea," Genku said.

"It's probably cold by now, anyway," Brock said, leaving the room.

Kyari picked up a cup to find the water was still warm, no longer hot, but not too cold to drink. She took a sip out of politeness. "Thank you for having us, Tamiyo, Genku. I'm sorry things didn't work out how I expected."

"It's fine, Kyari," Tamiyo said. "Just do one thing for me."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Take good care of my boy."

"I've been doing my best."

"I know. Keep it up."


	3. Chapter 3

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 3: Drums of War

SIX MONTHS AGO

Rinok paced back and forth outside of his tent. Vilhelm sat huddled inside, avoiding contact with every soldier housed in the camp. Vampires weren't exactly a welcome sight on Valla, if they were a sight at all. Rinok didn't think he'd ever run into any, but what his sword cut down was less of a concern to him than the fact it was doing some cutting.

The sun set behind them, casting a bloody light onto the cloudy pillar of the distant Immersturm, the magical cyclone that induced the people of Valla to eternal war. Rinok remembered the first time he'd ever beheld the storm. The force of its winds had sent his helmet spinning into the distance. A bolt of lightning struck out at him, hitting him full in the chest and dancing over his skin. He still bore the mark of the Immersturm's blessing, a perfect imprint of the lightning coiling around his torso in vivid red against his skin. The hammering of his heart after being stopped by the blast had sounded like drums, urging him forward.

He'd treated his heart like a drum of war ever since, but now that drum faltered. Returning to Kamigawa to exact his revenge on the spirits and their hubris as well as urging the mortal inhabitants into battle once more was proving difficult. A force kept him from returning to the plane. That force was the Sisters of Flesh and Spirit, Michiko and Kyodai.

The twin guardians of Kamigawa were rightfully angry at Rinok. He did attempt to disturb centuries of peace between Kami and mortals, something in which the sisters were certainly invested. But they didn't even bother to listen to Rinok's plan to save their plane from certain demise.

"All you seek, War's Herald, is the slaughter of a being you've never pierced with your blade before," the sisters said in unison before forcing him back to Valla.

There had to be another way in, but what? He paced back and forth once more, coming to a stop by his horse. It was a powerful animal, a pristine, white charger that looked fantastic splattered with the blood of their enemies. Rinok's hand found its way into one of his saddlebags where the artifact from Xerex was kept. The small spherical object felt cold and heavy in his hands, heavy with purpose.

He entered the tent, portal sphere in hand. "Vilhelm, this is it. This is my way back in."

The vampire gave Rinok a patronizing glance. "Well how else did you expect to get your army to another plane?" He returned to poring over the information he'd gleaned from a few key members of Rinok's small army. Their leader had weaknesses. Vilhelm needed to know exactly what those were.

"No, I knew that," Rinok said dismissively. "What I was more concerned with was getting myself back onto the plane. I'm considered unwelcome by the guardians."

"You told me they were two, a matched pair?" Vilhelm asked.

"That's right."

"So separate them."

"That's so simple," Rinok said. He was skeptical at first, then it dawned on him. Separating the twin Kami was simple, yes, but devilishly so. Alone, they were likely half as strong, and more manageable. "I love it."

"Your compliments are hardly necessary. I knew from the outset I would be the brains behind this whole operation."

"I suppose that makes me the brawn?"

"Of course not," Vilhelm scoffed. "That's Rhyne."

Rinok frowned. "Then what exactly am I?"

"You," Vilhelm said, "are the face of this whole operation. You have a certain charisma among mortals that Rhyne and I lack. Brawn is disposable. Anyone can be hired muscle. It takes a certain irreplaceable quality to rally men like you can."

"My men will follow me anywhere, even across worlds if I wanted them to. It won't be as fun this way, but you need sparks to start a fire." Rinok sighed. His men were a mishmash of warring factions who had come together to follow him into battle, and him alone. Valor spoke for itself, and the blessing of the Immersturm was a confirmation of that valor.

"What do you mean, not fun? Shouldn't we work as efficiently as possible?" Vilhelm asked. "We need a standing army to start a war."

"That won't get people roped into the cycle," Rinok said. "To do that, you need to build your army from the ground up. You need to play on people's insecurities, their fears, their needs. If people are motivated by religion, you start a holy war. If they are motivated by territory, a turf war."

"So, are we to spend the next however long studying people on Kamigawa to figure out these needs, and then start our war with what you find there?"

"Precisely." A hungry light shone in Rinok's eyes. "It's more fun that way."

0000000

TWO MONTHS LATER

Rinok's war drum beat in his chest as the men before him thrust their fists into the sky. Vilhelm stood by him, covered head to toe in intricate samurai armor that obscured his face with a snarling mask. Rhyne scurried among the crowd, distributing weapons and supplies.

"See what I mean, friend?" Rinok asked the vampire softly. "We can start small. These men despise the rats living in the swamps and the annoying little akki. Factions are already forming. Soon we'll have a crusade on our hands, a movement made by the people themselves to throw off the shackles of peace and rebuild this world in their image. No spirits, no subhuman races."

"I highly doubt they're actually subhuman," Vilhelm said.

"They don't know that." Rinok gestured to the gathering of maybe a hundred before them.

0000000

ONE MONTH LATER

Rhyne crept through the bushes along the border of the Jukai forest. The sharp smell of cedar filled his nostrils, making it harder to track the Orochi scout he and his small group of men were following. Their mission was simple, if boring. They were to attack a scout, plant a ratfolk dagger on its body, and steal its arrows. Rinok was adamant about no dismemberment or mutilation. It had to be a single, stealthy strike, otherwise it wouldn't be convincing.

A twig snapped in the distance. The scout was young and inexperienced. Good, Rhyne thought, easier to overpower. Through a series of complicated hand motions, he directed his troops, no more than five in all, to fan out and move forward in an arc. One man held the dagger at the ready, prepared to throw it with deadly accuracy when their target was in sight.

The scout's head poked above the brush, mass of bright hair giving away its position in the early morning light. Rhyne smiled. Several of his men shuddered at that smile. With a flick of his wrist, he alerted their knife-thrower that his time was now.

A small blade flew through the air and embedded itself in the scout's neck with a snikt. Any cry died in the scout's throat and was replaced with the gurgling sounds of death. The men moved quickly, seizing only a handful of arrows, then disappearing, leaving behind the corpse to be found by a patrol or wild beast.

This attack wouldn't go ignored. Rhyne knew Rinok was counting on a large response from the Orochi. Once their forces were diverted elsewhere, it would be Rhyne's time to shine. There was a place deep inside the forest that he would target, but only when the time was right.

They returned to camp around sundown with little incident. Rhyne personally handed the arrows to Rinok and Vilhelm.

"Did anyone see you?" Rinok asked fervently.

"No. It was a piece of cake. Speaking of which, those little squishy rice cake things, do we have any more?"

"You're concerned with mochi at a time like this?" Vilhelm growled through his helmet.

"I'm hungry, and unless you want me to start eating the troops, mochi. Now."

"You'll have to go into town. Here, take some money." Rinok dumped a handful of coins into Rhyne's hand and pointed him in the direction of the small town where most of their army was quartered. The inhabitants of the backwater village had been more than happy to join the cause. Required tribute to the spirits stretched their already thin resources, and the monks, kitsune, and orochi of the Jukai forest limited their expansion. A half day's journey away was a valuable resource and they couldn't make any use of it.

"Was it fair?" Rinok had asked. They answered with a resounding "no".

"These," Rinok said, holding up the arrows and turning to Vilhelm, "are going to help us do a lot of damage."

"Your idea is to take arrows that are noticeably Orochi in origin and plant them at different points along the border in false attacks?" Vilhelm asked, skepticism in his voice.

"Precisely. How else am I going to get these people to stir to action? Getting people to attack first is hard, especially if you want a large number of people attacking. A handful of zealots can start the fighting, but maintaining it is easier if people think they're defending something."

"So," Vilhelm walked through Rinok's plan slowly. "Each race or group will think they're defending themselves and launch counterattacks, which will prompt further attacks?"

"Genius, isn't it? You're not the only brain here."

"We have yet to see if it will work."

"It will. I guarantee it."

0000000

She bounced from plane to plane, each subsequent walk leaving her more and more exhausted, but she had to find where they went. It didn't help that she'd never been to the plane before. She didn't know where it was, only what it looked like from memories that weren't hers. Every day she woke up and started planeswalking, and kept going until she passed out on the ground of some foreign world. Each time the voices grew louder.

If she kept going she might get lost, trapped in the blind eternities with no strength left to break through the barrier of another plane.

She could go back, back to the apartment on Ravnica were there was always a warm bed and a project for her to work on.

But she couldn't show her face to him without the artifact. The artifact that she'd lost, that she'd given away.

She'd put the multiverse in danger because she was petty and stupid.

It didn't matter that she regretted it the instant after she let them get away. She was petty and stupid and had to fix it. Maybe then she could make amends and turn an enemy into an ally. She was sick of enemies. Sick of fighting. Sick of always messing things up.

Ashleigh crashed face first into the dirt, trading a cacophony for a soft harmony of one million million voices. She pulled herself onto her knees, her eyes attempting to refocus after so much planeswalking and head trauma. Ribbonlike beings floated through the air one instant and were gone the next. A cloud in the sky twinkled like a distant city. She didn't feel alone, the crippling, oppressive feeling she got on even the most populous of planes. Instead she felt surrounded by something, some class of being she didn't have a word for. She recognized this feeling, though. It was present in the memories she'd been using to find this place, but they hadn't really done it justice. Maybe because the memories were so old, or maybe because the person whose memories they were had just been so accustomed to this feeling.

This had to be Kamigawa, which meant that Rinok had to be here somewhere with his army and the artifact. Ashleigh sighed. She was sick of fighting, but there was no way he'd part with something that important without a fight. Although maybe she didn't have to fight him. He believed her to be completely angry at Brock for what had happened to Abby. She felt a heat rise in her stomach and retched onto the ground, bile coating the back of her throat in a bitter slime.

It was true. She was still mad at him, but not "destroy your home and everyone you loved" mad. That had been almost immediately replaced by the crushing regret. Destroying homes wasn't how people made friends, although to be fair she'd met Odom because they had a mutual interest in watching things get destroyed.

Focus, Ash, focus, she told herself. She staggered onto her feet and started walking. Someone somewhere would know about a lunatic with an army. All she had to do was follow the sound of the drums of war.


	4. Chapter 4

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 4: Attack on the Kami

"Sir," one of the soldiers barked, getting Rinok's attention, "we've found a prisoner. She claims to know you."

"She?" Rinok raised an eyebrow.

"She won't tell us a name or where she's from. She just showed up limping and wearing ragged clothing, but she said if we showed you this you'd know who she was." The soldier opened his hand, revealing an intricate etherium comb.

"Ah, I had wondered when she'd find me." Rinok smiled. He turned his attention back to his tent. "Vilhelm," he called, "get dressed. We have a friend for dinner."

Rhyne jumped out from wherever he'd been hiding. "Dinner?" he asked enthusiastically, visibly salivating.

"Ugh," Rinok groaned, rolling his eyes. "No, Rhyne, we have a guest, not a meal." He continued grumbling under his breath, "Honestly you're worse than the Kolaghan."

Rinok made his way across the camp without waiting for Vilhelm. The vampire was still inefficient about putting on his armor, in all likelihood because he wasn't fond of covering himself from head to toe. No matter, Vilhelm would have his time alone with the Voidcaller later.

"Ash, how have you been? Wreaking havoc, I assume?" Rinok asked bombastically. Ashleigh looked up at him with a haggard hollowness about her. Maybe it was because she was tied to a post and guarded by several large men armed to the teeth.

"I've been better, Rinok. You have no idea just how long it took me to find you."

"And why would that be?"

"Well, I gave you this idea, didn't I? It's only right that I join in the fun." She smirked, cracking her chapped lips.

"You're not here for the artifact?" Rinok asked, confusion plain in his voice.

"Of course not. What would I do with it? Give it to Odom so he could give it to a dragon? Eternal destruction is my forte, darling, why wouldn't I want to join you in an interplanar quest to bring about total war?" Ashleigh forced a laugh, hoping Rinok would be to blinded by his own hubris to see through her. Vilhelm, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

"I suppose you could bring in another demographic," Rinok mused. "And I am stretching command pretty thin. Rhyne doesn't tend to follow directions well."

"I do have experience working in a laboratory, and some military background. Did I ever tell you about the time I served under Oona, Queen of the Fae?"

"The necromancer's fairy wife?"

"Before her exile, mind you. Besides, you could use someone with my expertise. I have a history with demons and if you want to drag people into a war, the best way to do it is with demons."

"That seems reasonable. The oni would add another layer and if you know as much about them as you say, you could prove useful. I'll have Vilhelm determine whether or not you'll be allowed to stay. I can't have you running off to Brock or any of his little friends, now, can I?"

"What about me determining usefulness?" Vilhelm asked, straightening his helmet.

"Oh, just spend some time alone with Miss Voidcaller, here, and get back to me. Men, we can leave them be for now. She's harmless." Rinok and the guards left them there.

"Nice mask, Vilhelm. People here haven't ever seen a vampire before."

"You can drop the pretenses, Ashleigh. I know you're here for the artifact."

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend, but I prefer other shiny objects," she said. "Besides, you want this to fail."

"How did you…" Vilhelm trailed off, hiding the fact that she'd impressed him. "Improvisation really is your strong suit. You smooth talked Rinok the same way he does to the troops, and now you're turning my own methods on me."

All she did by way of a reply was wink.

"So, if this venture is to fail, how would you ensure it? I need at least one walker death guaranteed, preferably Rhyne's. Rinok is still useful to me."

"Anything can look like an accident, Vilhelm. I'll promise you one death, no guarantees on more. My policy is no refunds, either, especially if there are necromancers and/or divinities involved. You get me the artifact, I'll get you a dead planeswalker."

"You get me a dead planeswalker, you can have the artifact. Rinok's own natural abilities have made it obsolete."

"Deal."

0000000

"The best points for us to strike while the Orochi are focused on the nezumi are here and here," Rinok pointed to two spots on the map of Jukai forest. "There's a path that leads to a shrine deep inside. That's where we plant the oni weaponry and burn the shrine to the ground."

One of his men interjected, "Sir, that might cause spirits to be involved. Okina is the heart of the world."

"Isn't that the point?" Rinok asked smoothly.

"These might not be little spirits. The Myojin themselves could appear!"

"Nobody has seen one of them in centuries," another soldier countered. "They could have all died just like the dragons."

"Yosei still lives," the first man said. "I've felt his presence myself."

"Let the Kami come," Rinok said. "We'll be prepared."

Ashleigh and Rhyne stood in the corner, her dressed in dark blue armor and he in his customary traveling gear. They stood in mirrored positions, crossing their arms and listening intently to Rinok briefing his commanders. They bore identical expressions of conspiratorial glee. A bow was slung across Rhyne's back, the arrows in the quiver wrapped with prayer slips to banish spirits back across the barrier. The mission to Jukai would be covered by Rhyne. Rinok had better plans for the Voidcaller. Together they would lure out the patron Kami of the Soratami to drag the highborn cloud dwellers into the battle that was beginning to rage down below. A fabricated war between the Orochi and Nezumi had already broken out and showed no signs of stopping with the coming winter. Humanity led the charge against the Akki, who were also fighting the Nezumi over a perceived insult by refusing to lend their aid. Once the Orochi became involved in a conflict with the Akki, their forces would be stretched too thin to continue protecting the Jukai forest. The strike against Okina would be simple enough that Rinok could leave Rhyne to it.

Ashleigh caught Vilhelm's eye from across the tent. He nodded subtly. She was to allow this mission to go off without a hitch. If Rhyne were to get himself killed, it would be in an attack on one of the holiest places on Kamigawa. Her interference might not be necessary at all, which she couldn't allow. Not if she wanted the artifact. Vilhelm would get his dead planeswalker, she could guarantee that, but which of them would die was a trickier thing altogether.

PRESENT DAY

A gong sounded somewhere in the cloud city of Otawara surrounding the Oboro palace. Narset ushered Tamiyo and Genku's children back inside the house, telling them to go play while she found their parents.

"Why do we need to go back in?" Rumiyo cried.

"Weren't you just complaining about it being cold?" Narset scoffed playfully, lightly jabbing the Soratami child in the ribs.

"That tickles! Stop it!" Rumiyo shouted, leaping away from her mother's friend. The other children followed her down the hall, Nashi trailing behind unable to keep up with their bounding steps.

Narset sighed contentedly. The little nezumi boy had been so shy when he first came to Otawara as Tamiyo's adopted son, but he was adjusting. Other children and their parents still gave him disparaging looks according to Genku. Centuries, possibly millennia of prejudice against the nezumi didn't seem to help. Humanity considered them a nuisance along with the akki. Narset couldn't help but agree with that assessment. Akki were similar to the goblins back on Tarkir, and most were loyal to Kolaghan. They were a shrill, overzealous group that reveled in destruction, just like their dragonlord. She shuddered at memories of Clan Kolaghan's cannibalism, just another manifestation of their lack of a code of honor.

She rounded the corner to find the door to the room she'd left Genku and Tamiyo in with Kyari and Brock wide open and a space open around the kotatsu. Three teacups remained untouched.

"I take it that things didn't go very well?" Narset asked.

Kyari sighed. "It can be incredibly frustrating to deal with him. He's so stubborn." She scooted back and got up. "You weren't gone long."

"A gong sounded somewhere, I figured it would be best if I let Tamiyo and Genku know."

"What did it sound like?" Tamiyo asked.

Narset thought for a moment. "Fervent. Someone was banging on it quickly, prolonging the note."

"It couldn't be the alarm," Genku said. "The Soratami have had nothing but peace for years."

Kyari's eyes widened and she grabbed Narset's wrist. "We're too late."

"What do you mean?" Genku asked.

"I spent months tracking down Brock. Time I should have spent trying to warn you all about Rinok, but I thought he'd want to come with me." Kyari dropped Narset's wrist and rushed outside.

A human in the city of Otawara should have stood out like a sore thumb, so Brock never would have gone outside of Tamiyo and Genku's house. Kyari reached out and searched for any disturbance in the plane's natural flow of mana. Planeswalkers in particular tended to be noticeable deviations, carrying the emptiness of the blind eternities within themselves. She scrunched her nose and shut her eyes tightly, expanding her search radius until she found something that wasn't flavored with the lake country of Tarkir or the serene face of Kamigawa's moon. Brock pulsed like a signal fire in Kyari's extra sense, and he was hiding in a far corner of Tamiyo's cloud garden. Magic imbued stones floated just under the surface of the clouds that had been artfully arranged into a variety of shapes. Kyari stepped lightly, feeling her way across the garden and regretting leaving her coat on Shandalar. Beads of moisture began collecting on her clothes and dark hair, making her shiver in the winter air. Thin boots, leggings, and a light shirt were not practical for cold weather, or high altitudes.

She rounded a corner and found Brock sitting on a stone in a vain attempt to meditate. His breath didn't even produce the white puffs that spewed from Kyari as she shivered a few feet away.

"What is it with you monks and never being cold?" Kyari asked, stammering around her teeth starting to chatter.

"I grew used to the cold on Tarkir," Brock said, opening one eye. "What do you want? Did they send you?"

"No. I sent me. Brock it's too late. We're too late."

He opened both eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Rinok's already here. Don't you hear the gong?"

"I was busy focusing," Brock said. He heard it now, though. The note was being held with regular pulses to prolong it.

"Well unfocus," Kyari said. "Rinok's here."

"How are you so sure he's here?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"Kyari," Brock sighed, "you have to provide evidence."

"Okay. What has gotten into you?"

"Tamiyo never acts without taking everything into consideration. We don't know Rinok is here for sure, so we have to make sure."

"I can't believe this," Kyari said. "I literally cannot believe what I'm hearing. What even are you doing right now? Regressing to the point where you're trying to get mommy and daddy to love you again?" Kyari reached out with her magic again, letting the extra sense examine the mana flowing around Brock. It was still roiling underneath, but Brock had somehow created a smooth, hard shell around himself. "Sweet Karametra that's exactly what you're doing."

"Well what are you even doing?" Brock countered.

"You sound like a child. Sure, I don't break this out often, but you know I've been able to sense mana flow around creatures since I started planeswalking. I didn't do it on Xerex because, honestly, there wasn't much for me to work with, but maybe I should have, because then I might have been able to tell this was going to happen if you ever came back to Kamigawa."

"You were also too focused on your damned hydra," Brock said harshly.

"Can you stop with the hydra? I was responsible for a being that chose to be with me, forgive me for being so concerned with its well-being." The sarcasm in Kyari's voice bit into Brock. "Sorry if caring for my companion got in the way of whatever you were trying to do."

The gong kept sounding. Brock clenched his teeth and balled his fists. "Kyari, you just need to go. This isn't your fight."

"Oh, it is my fight, Brock. I have friends here too. The Orochi, Tamiyo and Genku, among others. When I first met Rinok, I was here. He tried starting his war before, and now he's got a way to destroy not only a world we both have ties to, but we gave him the ability to do so."

"Children," Tamiyo called from the back of the house, "I need you to come inside quickly. Something horrible has happened."

"What is it?" Kyari called over her shoulder.

"There's been an attack. The ruins of Minamo have been desecrated, a kami has been gravely injured, our patron."


	5. Chapter 5

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 5: Build Up

SIX WEEKS AGO

Rhyne and his small group of men left their forest camp well before dawn. The main body of Rinok's army was stationed several days away by horse, over a week by foot, giving Rhyne near complete control over the course of this mission into Jukai forest. Their targets were the forest temple known as Okina and the Orochi hactchery. Rinok had been very adamant that Rhyne was not to burn the forest to the ground. Its rich natural resources had been promised to their troops as spoils of war; however, while Rinok might be a man of his word, Rhyne was not. Cedar had such a lovely smell about it while burning, and the flesh of snakefolk was entirely unknown to him. Rhyne licked his lips in anticipation. Scrambling the eggs and folding them over roasted snake flesh in an omelet might just be delicious, or it might be just as stringy as viashino.

Adding the Voidcaller to their command got in Rhyne's way, though. The potential for great destruction was there, but she was too tame, too put together. It struck Rhyne as almost certainly artificial, but Rinok cared little for instincts that were not his own. Rhyne scoffed at the thought of it, a white cloud of breath billowing into the air before him in the dim moonlight. An opportunistic crescent moon hung in the sky tonight, blessing them with favor according to Rhyne's men.

"I saw him," one whispered, indicating a spot where he'd seen the small, blue form of a Kami. "He offers his blessings."

"That shrewd little Kami always wants to be on the winning side," another cautioned. "His blessing might easily become a curse if we falter."

"Then don't falter," Rhyne said flatly as they delved deeper into the forest, the trees growing larger and larger the further they went.

Silence pervaded for a short time before another soldier began trembling with fear. "We should turn back," he said a little too loudly. "We should leave while we still have a chance. The kodama will-" he was cut off, dropping to the ground and revealing Rhyne standing behind him, bloody knife in his hand. He licked the blade absentmindedly, feeling himself grow stronger and more connected to the land beneath him. The mana began to pulse around and through him, making his belly grow hot.

"Anyone else have any reservations?" Rhyne asked. The four remaining men stood silently as Rhyne shot an Orochi arrow into the dead man's back.

Okina temple was once a humble structure designed for the honor of ancestors. Humans, Orochi, and Kistune all visited together, but as centuries wore on each tribe felt their ancestors deserved their own temples, and so the Okina temple complex was born. Three towering structures, beautifully designed and well-maintained pagodas surrounded by smaller dormitories, now stood at the ends of an equilateral triangle. Each was tended by monks of the race to which the temple was dedicated with the exception of the Orochi, who selected a shaman from the line of Sachi, Daughter of Seshiro, for such an honor. Each finial at the top of the pagodas took the shape of a dragon, remembering or invoking Jugan, the protective deity of the forest that rose higher around them. With the heart of the plane thus divided, it had also weakened. The three statues at the center of the temple complex stood facing away from each other, an unintentional metaphor for the division between once amicable tribes.

Under the waning light of the crescent moon, the temple complex slumbered in silence. Rhyne's group of men slunk through the surrounding bushes, arranging themselves at equal intervals around the temples. They strung their bows, took aim, and let volley after volley of flaming arrows fly.

"What's that?" a soldier asked, pointing above the growing blaze. A strange, ribbonlike being appeared, coiling among the buildings. Glowing orbs floated around it in lazy arcs. Its color was almost unintelligible in the firelight. A loud rumbling emanated from the entity, but it wasn't around for long. An arrow from Rhyne's bow, wrapped in a spirit-banishing prayer slip, thunked into the kami's body, sending it back beyond the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms.

Rhyne appeared next to the soldier. "A spirit. Our work is done. We need to move on." He departed with almost impossible speed. When the men went to follow him, they were shocked to discover that there were only three of them left.

Rhyne reached the hatchery long before his men. The strength from the one he'd just killed had begun to wane, and the others wouldn't catch up to him for some time. He closed his eyes, preparing for something he didn't particularly enjoy doing. He pulled out ceremonial knife, the same one he'd used to kill his men, and dug it into his own leg. The heat in his belly returned, spreading through his heart, along his arms, and into his hands. The lifeblood of the world pounded through his veins and he tapped into that pounding. Each beat filled him with new strength, stoking the fire until his hands ignited. He threw a fistful of fire into the air, really not caring where it went. If the whole colony went up in flames, Rhyne couldn't be bothered with it. Fire was unpredictable, just like he was.

"Where do you suppose the Orochi are?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Rinok has been stoking their conflict with the Nezumi," another said. "Maybe they've left the forest for a counterattack?"

"They're a proud race," the third replied. "Wouldn't put it past them. It's also the dead of night. If you were cold-blooded would you want to be outside right now?" He shivered to punctuate his sentence.

Rhyne staggered out from the trees, knife in hand, smoke trailing from his palms. His pant leg was stained with blood, and it continued to flow, pooling at his feet. He smiled at the remaining men, but something in his smile seemed off to them. They began to back away slowly.

Rhyne pounced.

0000000

"What the?" Kyari's head felt like it was spinning. She pressed on her temples and felt a chaotic influx of mana. She opened her eyes and found herself in a familiar field, only now it was the dead of night. "This isn't Muraganda…" she said. "Why am I on Kamigawa?" And why did everything feel so wrong? The plane was crying, sobbing, even screaming in agony. It was so loud. Kyari fell to her knees, slamming her fists into the earth while tears streamed down her face.

"What's wrong?" Kyari cried. "Why can't I help you?" She dug her hands into the earth, but the land itself rejected her magic, flooding her with its pain and showing her who caused it. She saw a familiar face surrounded by fire, mouth dripping with blood. Rhyne was here, which meant Rinok couldn't be far behind. She jumped back as if being struck by lightning. Something was very wrong, but she couldn't find out what alone. She needed to find Brock again. Hopefully he would agree to see her this time.

0000000

By morning, the temple complex of Okina was a charred out shell of its former self. Only a handful of monks survived, and they wandered aimlessly around their lost home surveying the damage. Representatives from each of the three tribes that laid claim to the shrine stood at the center with the smoke-stained statues eagerly discussing what should be done.

"Who could have done this?" Soft-Ear, the kitsune representative asked. "An attack on the temples…"

Kazuo, the highest ranking human monk to survive the night, hung his head in sadness. "I know not."

Sakae, second daughter of the line of Seshiro and chosen shaman to serve at their temple, bit her tongue. A pair of human bodies had been found near the temple complex dressed in traveling clothes, but armed with war bows and not hunting ones.

Soft-Ear glanced over to the other two temples, just as destroyed as the one under his care. The kitsune stroked one of his tails. He looked back to Sakae. She was being uncharacteristically silent. The set of her jaw told him all he needed to know. "Something troubles you, Sakae?"

"We found bodies, I don't see how it's not obvious who did this," she said.

Soft-Ear exhaled slowly. "The bodies were human, yes, but that does not mean our brothers and sisters here mean us any ill will."

Kazuo furrowed his brows and anger washed over his face when the realization of what Sakae meant dawned on him. "You think that we would attack our own temple, Sakae?"

"I think your kind have had your eye on this forest for a long time. My people have lived in and defended the Jukai for ages. We are the Jukai. You, however, are interlopers. Humanity's disrespect of the Kami was what started the Kami war in the first place."

Soft-ear's ears began to droop.

"And your attacks on the Nezumi are so honorable," Kazuo declared sarcastically.

"They attacked us first. My brother was killed by one of those vermin. We found his body on our border, a nezumi dagger in his throat," Sakae shouted, gesticulating wildly with her four arms.

"Your people's response was disproportionate to the crime," Kazuo replied just as loudly.

"Any drop of the blood of our revered ancestor that is needlessly spilled is an act of war."

Soft-ear started walking away. It was clear to him that this was the tipping point of the uneasy peace at Okina temple. Their pride had grown too great. A bruised ego now demanded genocide, it seemed. What force could be driving this rage that seemed to sweep the forest? He felt a strangeness in the air, a stirring of the spirits, as though they longed to cross the barrier again to enter the mortal realm. He sent a silent prayer to the Twin Kami who guarded the veil between the spirit and physical realms, begging the sisters to restore peace.

000000

"How does one go about summoning a god," Rinok asked rhetorically. When Ashleigh and Vilhelm offered no answers, he continued. "You offer it the one thing it craves. Tribute. Gods are nothing without mortals to offer them trinkets."

"Gods rarely accept trinkets," Ashleigh said. "And demons certainly don't. Gods ask for praise and sacrifices. Demons prefer bargains and blood."

"She has a point, Rinok." Vilhelm removed his mask. They were alone in the tent. "Gods want something their adherents think is important. Hardly trinkets. The Ghost Council on Ravnica demands money and eternal servitude. Gods of Theros demand devotion and burnt offerings of meat or expensive incenses. The patrons here require a similar sacrifice. If you want to summon the Patron of the Moon, you'll need something moonfolk value."

"I have a few ideas," Rinok said. "Ashleigh, I'll need you to run some errands for me. We need a moonfolk willing to help us."

"Easier said than done. The floating cities rarely let in humans." Ashleigh said. "At least that's what I've heard."

"Then you'll just have to find one down here on a visit, then."


	6. Chapter 6

Planar Chaos

Before the Spark

Whatever it takes

Eleanor heaved a sigh, hanging her coat on the rack near the door of her family's modest home. At eighteen she was young for a cathar, but not overly so. Thalia had ascended to the same rank at an even younger age than she had. The young woman sighed. She'd been promised to the order from a young age and worked as a mausoleum guard in the small town her family lived in.

"Ellie?"

"I'm here, Ash."

The back door to their house shut and her sister, three years her junior, practically flew through the house to embrace her.

"Ash, what did I tell you about being outside during the Hunter's moon?"

"But it's so pretty tonight," Ashleigh protested.

Eleanor looked down at her little sister, all big green eyes and curls the color of dried blood. She shuddered at the comparison. Is that where her mind dwelled these days? On death? She supposed it had something to do with Ashleigh's being promised by their father to the Runechanters. She'd leave to start her training in a few months, once the darkness of Hunter's Moon was over and it was once again time for New Moon. Eleanor couldn't deny her jealousy. There was learned magic, of course, but being born with the capability made one a better candidate for the specialized orders of the Church of Avacyn.

"I know you like the stars, Ash, but there are werewolves out there. It's getting harder for me and the others to keep the town safe."

"Are you sure you can anymore?"

"Ash, where's this coming from?" Eleanor asked. Something in her sister's voice and expression caught her off guard.

"You all pray all the time, you draw your symbols, and nobody comes to help you. Only Avacyn can hear our prayers, right? The other angels can't do that? So why doesn't Avacyn come to help you?"

"Someone else somewhere else needs her more than we do." Eleanor answered automatically, almost like she didn't believe it herself. She'd never seen Avacyn herself. The archangel had never answered her prayers. Perhaps they weren't fervent enough. Then again, Eleanor hadn't seen any of the archangels, leaders of the main flights. The other three, Gisela, Bruna, and Sigarda, were powerful but not omnipotent. They lacked the ability to answer prayers.

Ashleigh looked up at her sister. Eleanor's dirty blonde braid was falling out, and her eyes were dark with exhaustion. Why couldn't Avacyn see how much Eleanor needed her?

She'd come to a conclusion that she'd been hiding, not just from Ellie, but their whole family. Ashleigh firmly believed Avacyn had abandoned humanity, or at least that she wasn't as powerful as she seemed. If Avacyn couldn't beat the darkness that tried nightly to consume everything, how strong was she? How strong were any of them? True power didn't lie with the light her sister served. True power existed in the darkness she fought.

"Ash?" Eleanor gave her sister a shake.

"What? Sorry," Ashleigh said, snapping out of her thoughts. She yawned.

"You're tired. Let's get on to bed. Mother and Father will want us well rested for tomorrow."

"What's so special about tomorrow?" Ashleigh asked.

"It's another day."

00000

The next day dawned with Eleanor in a cold sweat. She stared at the ceiling, unmoving and unresponsive to everyone but her sister.

"Ellie," Ashleigh sobbed, gripping her sister's limp hand. "Ellie, what's wrong?"

They were alone, their parents having gone into the town to send for a specialist to treat Eleanor.

"Ash," Eleanor croaked, "I can hardly hear myself think. It's so loud… They're all so loud…"

"Who is?" Ashleigh pleaded. "Ellie, please, who is so loud?"

"The voices. I can barely hear you over them, they hurt my head."

"What can I do to fix it, Ellie?" Ashleigh begged. "Anything, I'll do anything."

"Avacyn will restore me, Ash." Ellie's eyes were as hollow as her voice. "We just have to have faith."

Faith? Ashleigh sighed inwardly. She didn't think an angel could cure her sister. Angels didn't have any power anymore. The neighbors had been mauled by werewolves in the night, or maybe the neighbors were werewolves. It was hard to tell these days.

"Just do this for me, Ashleigh," Eleanor whispered. "Pray with me."

Ashleigh took her sister's hands, bowed her head, and listened to Eleanor pray.

"Avacyn, greatest of the angels, we pray that your healing light shine upon us, that your strength guard our souls, and let us pass into the Blessed Sleep undisturbed by forces of evil." The prayer thus uttered, Eleanor fell into a deep sleep.

When their parents returned hours later, they were accompanied by a priest who examined Eleanor's sleeping body. He gave Ashleigh a wide berth for whatever reason. Something about the young woman, little more than a girl, unnerved him.

"She requires rest and the attentions of one far more powerful than I. We must summon an angel to dispel this curse."

"An angel?" Ashleigh sputtered.

"You sound incredulous, young one. Have you never encountered one of our protectors?" The priest asked.

"No," Ashleigh admitted. "They don't come here. Nothing important enough happens to get their attention."

"Ashleigh," her mother cautioned, placing a hand on her husband's arm to keep him from striking their daughter for her insolence.

"I've never seen an angel, mom," Ashleigh said. "I'd only be right to assume it's because someone somewhere else needs them more than we do."

"We need to let Ellie rest," her mother said. "Everyone, let's retire to the main room. Dear," she turned to her husband, "I'm sure there are some things that need to be done in the stables. The farrier should be by today to fit a new shoe for the bay plowhorse."

"Ash," Ellie rasped.

"What is it, dear?" Their mother asked.

"Ash, stay, please," Ellie hadn't opened her eyes.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," the priest whispered to their father.

"Ellie, Ashleigh will come with us. You need your rest," their father put a firm hand on Ashleigh's upper arm, gave it a sharp squeeze that sent his fingers right into the seam between two muscles and caused the younger daughter to wince and reluctantly leave her sister's side.

"Ash," Ellie breathed, her voice growing weak.

"They have a powerful bond," the priest observed after they shut the door behind them.

"They always have," their mother said. "Ellie wouldn't leave her side after she was born."

"I have some concerns about that," the priest said. "Her lack of faith might be what's causing Eleanor's affliction."

"I'm right here," Ashleigh said.

She was ignored.

"When New Moon comes," her father said, "Ashleigh will leave here to go train as a Runechanter. She's shown some signs of magical talent."

"And you're certain it's natural?" the priest asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" her father responded. "Are you saying she's in league with demons? At fifteen?"

"Many a child has been tempted to darkness due to their ignorance. A benevolent presence might soon turn out to have a dark origin."

Ashleigh realized she wasn't wanted in the conversation. If they were going to speculate on her connections to demons, they could do it where she couldn't hear them.

But what if she reached out to the darker forces in the world? If priests and angels couldn't heal Ellie, maybe demons could. They were already at least as powerful as angels, maybe more so since through all their efforts the angels couldn't manage to stamp them out entirely. But how did one go about summoning a demon? Were there rites, like in church? Or was it all just a little blood and some drawing on the ground to get one to appear? She needed to investigate.

000000

Weeks later, Eleanor's condition hadn't improved. Despite Ashleigh praying with her sister daily, no angel had come to visit. Priests were getting worried, some had even gone so far as to suggest putting Eleanor out of her misery. They didn't phrase it that way, of course. They said things like "It would be best to let her fall into Blessed Sleep." It seemed their parents were coming around.

"Ashleigh, what do you think would look best on your sister?" Their mother held up two dresses that Ashleigh hardly paid any attention to. She refused to entertain the idea that Ellie was going to die.

"I've selected a nice plot in the churchyard for her," their father said in passing. "Under that tree you two used to climb."

"Dammit, Ellie," Ashleigh said to her sister, "they're treating you like you're already dead."

"As long as you don't lose faith, Ash, I'll be fine." Eleanor gave a weak smile, and winced in pain.

"Does it hurt?" Ashleigh asked.

"It's less of a loud rumble and more of a dull roar now," Ellie sighed.

Ashleigh looked down at the haggard form of her sister. Ellie's skin clung to her bones. She'd hardly been able to eat for weeks, only able to keep down broth and some bread. Every morning Ashleigh brushed and braided her sister's thin hair and helped her walk around the room for exercise. It lifted Ellie's spirits, but little else.

"I've got to get you out of here," Ashleigh said. "They're giving up on you, Ellie. I can't let them. We'll find someone who can fix you. I'll do whatever it takes."

That night she woke Ellie from her sleep and helped her older sister get dressed. They set out into the Hunter's Moon night at a slow pace. Eleanor's feet dragged, her boots catching on everything in their path. Their breath sent white plumes into the air and shivers wracked their slight frames.

"Ash, it's too cold. We should go home," Eleanor whispered.

"Not a chance," Ashleigh said. "I'll do whatever it takes, Ellie."

"You'll get yourself killed," Eleanor said, leaning heavily on her sister. "I'm too weak to wield my sword. If a werewolf jumps out at us…"

"An angel will come and save us," Ashleigh snapped.

"They don't just come because we tell them to," Eleanor said.

"They will this time," Ashleigh replied. "You don't stand a chance if they don't."

Avacyn, Ashleigh thought, if you're listening, I need you to come and save my sister.

Something dark flitted over the moon. An angelic silhouette hung in the air for a moment, obscuring the heron, before diving towards them. An angel wearing the garb of Flight Goldnight, the red and white accented with burnished gold armor, landed before the sisters.

"You should not be travelling this late," the angel said. Ashleigh was instinctively afraid.

"Please, we need Avacyn to help us. Can you find her?" Ashleigh said. "My sister is ill and we've been praying for weeks, but she hasn't answered." Her voice began growing louder. "Is she not worth Avacyn's time? Are any of us not worth your time? Are we too far beneath you, or is it because you can't do anything? Because you're not actually as strong as the church says you are?"

"Ash," Ellie cautioned, her voice barely audible.

"No, Ellie, she's going to hear this, because they deserve to be criticized. They aren't gods. Avacyn isn't even a god if she doesn't bother responding to our prayers."

"You lack faith," the angel said. "And your poor faith has let a demon into your sister, to feed off of her."

"Well excuse me for having a healthy dose of skepticism," Ashleigh said, taking the angel's observation as an insult. "Excuse me for looking on while my sister drives herself into the ground for the church when none of her prayers have ever been answered."

"Ash, please," Eleanor said, putting all her strength into making her voice heard. "Don't take out your anger on this angel. I've had the same doubts you have, and this is what it's cost me. I'm prepared to pay the price. If that bars me from the Blessed Sleep, then so be it."

"Ellie, that's a load of crap and you know it," Ashleigh said. "I'll do whatever it takes for my sister to be well again, angel."

"Whatever it takes?" the angel asked, arching an eyebrow. "You would take on her burden?"

"If I had to," Ashleigh said.

"Ash, no," Ellie cried, trying with all her might to shake her little sister. When did Ash become so strong, she wondered, or when did I become so weak?

"Only with the right trigger," the angel mused, speaking to nobody in particular. "I accept the terms. Do you?"

Ashleigh held out a hand. "Shake on it?"

As the angel's hand closed around hers, it morphed into a claw. The angelic wings warped into batlike extremities, and the face became a grisly visage with oily black skin like a toad's. A demon held Ashleigh in its clutches while she struggled to support her sister's weight.

"You'll never be able to join the Runechanters now, girl," the demon growled.

"Never really wanted to," Ashleigh said. "I'll do whatever it takes for my sister."

The demon disappeared. Before Ashleigh's eyes, Ellie regained her strength. She stood upright, hurriedly backing away from her sister.

"Ashleigh," Eleanor said, "do you realize what you've done?"

"Only saved your life is what," Ashleigh said.

Eleanor drew her sword, pointing it at her sister's chest. "You made a pact with that… that thing."

"Ellie, what's wrong?" Ashleigh took a step towards her sister, but Eleanor took a step back. "I saved you."

"At what cost, Ashleigh? Your future? Your soul? Our parents?"

"Why can't you just be happy that I saved you from mom and dad killing you and being done with it all?" Ashleigh threw her hands into the air. "Ellie, I did it because I love you. What can I do to make you see that? I'll do whatever it takes to-"

"There's that again," Ellie cried. "Whatever it takes. Those are the words demons love. And now you've done whatever it takes. What's it going to take, huh? Will it be worth it in the end? No, Ash, don't back away from me. Just hold still. I'm going to return the favor. I'll save you from whatever bargain you just made. No, stand still. You're not standing still. Come back here. Don't run away from me!"

In her fervor, Ellie tripped over a root. Ashleigh kept running, unable to look back and see the crazed light in her sister's eyes. Ellie had transformed into something completely different. Why had she done that? Ashleigh made a huge sacrifice for her, but all Eleanor could think about was the demon.

They were all afraid of demons because they were powerful, more powerful than the angels. If Ashleigh wanted to achieve anything, she had to ally herself with the force that could actually effect change. This was probably a wise first step.

Let the angels plead and threaten. The demons would stand their ground.

AN: Yeah. Voidcaller has hella PTSD


	7. Chapter 7

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Six: Snackrifice

Kazuto sighed, surveying the damage that had been done to the Jukai forest over the last several weeks of infighting between the races living around and among the great sea of trees. The young moonfolk flipped one long ear over his shoulder, smearing ink across the scroll he'd been using to record his observations.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Now I have to start over." He reached into his satchel only to find that he was out of scrolls. It would take too long to return to Ottawara and his employer at the Oboro Palace. The quickest and most efficient option was to find a human settlement nearby and purchase blank scrolls, if he could find any. Kazuto shuddered at the thought. Humans were the cause of the great war and the death of so many Kami, throwing their home into chaos for petty ambitions. He hated having to interact with them and avoided the inferior race at all costs, but his employer demanded results. He would just have to get over his aversion.

He packed his belongings into his satchel and set off in a vaguely northern direction. There was bound to be some town or another along that direction. He'd seen smoke rising in the distance, and if it wasn't a settlement then he wasn't sure what it could be.

"I suppose it could be one of those army camps that have been popping up," Kazuto mused, "but they surely have no interest in someone like me. The Soratami haven't been involved in any of the conflicts down here for millenia."

As he drew closer to the source of the smoke, he was dismayed to find that it was, in fact, an army camp with tents lined up in regimented order and red flags displaying a white symbol that had been crudely painted onto each one. The symbol appeared to be a depiction of the barrier between the mortal and spirit realms with a sword slashing through it. Kazuto shuddered once again. Just who exactly were these people?

He neared the edge of the camp and a couple of humans wearing unusually heavy armor strode out to greet him, hands on the hilts of their weapons. Kazuto noted these soldiers lacked confidence, uncertain in their steps and their hands wavering by their swords. It was highly probable that these men didn't know how to use them.

"Konichiwa," Kazuto greeted them. "I'm a traveling scholar and would like to purchase some blank scrolls if you have any. I'm prepared to pay, of course."

"You'll have to ask the general about that," the soldier on the left said, voice muffled by his helmet. His accent was that of a southern farmer. Kazuto's suspicions about the men's lack of training seemed confirmed.

"Yes, of course," the moonfolk said nervously. "Take me to your leader."

They each took hold of one of his arms, dragging Kazuto through the camp more than escorting him. The pace they kept surprised him, or perhaps the camp was smaller than he'd initially thought. Every human they came across stared in curiosity at the moonfolk being pulled through their midst. Many had never even seen one of the Soratami in person, so infrequent were their visits to the world below.

A woman with hair the color of dried blood wearing more of the same heavy, dark blue armor as Kazuto's escorts stood outside the central tent with her arms crossed. She raised an eyebrow at his approach, then locked eyes with each of the moonfolk's escorts, silently reprimanding them for their treatment of a much anticipated guest. They immediately dropped Kazuto's arms and bowed deeply in apology, backing away quickly.

"Madam," Kazuto began, "I would like to purchase-"

She cut him off. "Oh, sweetie, I'm not the leader here. That's Rinok. He's in a meeting right now, but please feel free to wait around out here. I'm sure he'd be very happy to speak with you. We've never had a Soratami visitor before." Something about her patronizing tone coupled with the obvious enthusiasm about his presence made Kazuto wary, but he needed a scroll and armies certainly would have them. The Soratami military kept meticulous records, and while that might not be a norm amongst all the races of Kamigawa he was certain humans, despite their inferiority, would take heed of Soratami wisdom.

"So," the woman said, playing with a stray curl, "what brings you down here?"

"I am in need of a scroll. During my surveys, I used up all of mine and haven't collected the requisite information to satisfy my employer."

"You sound like my boyfriend," she said with a giggle, but Kazuto noticed the melancholy in her eyes. "He's always off doing sciency stuff for his bosses. Sometimes I tag along, but I've got my own responsibilities, you know?"

Kazuto remained silent. Of course he didn't know. How could he know what responsibilities this woman could possibly have?

"Anyway, right now those responsibilities are working with Rinok and our other partners, and my will they be happy to see you." She flashed him an almost menacing smile.

"Perhaps I should attempt to find another town, so as not to disturb General Rinok, then?" Kazuto suggested, taking an experimental step back.

"Of course not, dear," the woman said. "I pride myself on our hospitality, and if there is anything you need we'll be glad to get it for you."

Another step back.

"Rhyne," she sighed in exasperation. From a few feet behind Kazuto, standing in the shadow of one of the tents, a shape sprang out and tackled the Soratami. The woman rolled her eyes as they struggled on the ground, but the moonfolk boy was no match for a savage planeswalker groomed in the heart of Jund. "I had really hoped this would have been easy. When you walked on in here of your own accord, I figured the multiverse was finally cutting me some slack. But you weren't going to stay put, so I had to call in the dog."

Rhyne growled in response.

"Dammit, Rhyne, you know it's a metaphor. I know you're smart enough for those," she sighed. Turning to the tent, she poked her head inside and called out, "Rinok, Vilhelm, I've got something for you."

"Ashleigh," the response came, "can't it wait for just a few more minutes?"

"But Rhyne and I caught a moonfolk. Isn't that more important?"

"The Kamigawa Spiritual Liberation Army has lost serious ground to the nezumi in the swamps. What do you think?"

"I think the KSLA needs to stop fighting so honorably. Aren't both of you driven by ambition and bloodlust? I mean, a thrill kill cultist and a literal vampire, one would think-"

"Shut up for just five minutes and let me finish, woman!"

"I will chain lightning the shit out of both of you. One of these days." Ashleigh turned her attention back to Rhyne and the moonfolk boy. "Oi! Rhyne!" She snapped her fingers. "No killing and eating. We need him."

The wild man looked at her with contempt, but pulled his dagger away from the moonfolk boy's throat. Said moonfolk boy seemed to have lost consciousness, probably having fainted due to Rhyne's sudden and potentially deadly attack.

Seven minutes later, Rinok exited the tent to find Rhyne still on top of the unconscious moonfolk.

"Ashleigh, I specifically wanted no harm to come to the one you brought me."

"To be fair, he brought himself, and then tried to escape. Rhyne didn't hurt him, he just scared him."

"Well wake him up," Rinok barked. "Then give him to Vilhelm."

"Is he going to do the thing?" Ashleigh asked enthusiatically. "I've never seen him do the thing before."

"Yes, he's going to do the thing, now wake the boy." Rinok pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. "Honestly I have no clue why I accepted your help in the first place."

"Because, and I quote," she adopted a tone of voice obviously mean to mimic Rinok, "the potential diversity and flexibility of my particular magical aptitude has numerous tactical advantages over a variety of enemies."

Rinok merely sighed and stalked away.

Ashleigh picked up a bucket of collected rainwater and stood over Rhyne. "You either move or you get wet."

"I do as I please," Rhyne said indignantly.

"When did you become such a petulant child?" she scoffed, tilting the bucket. Rhyne only barely got out of the way before the cold contents splashed to the ground, and onto the moonfolk boy. He sputtered and sat upright so quickly he saw stars.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Ashleigh said. "You're expected in the tent. Don't worry about your clothes. Rhyne scares everyone, so this is normal." She hauled him up off the ground and pushed him through the tent flaps. Kazuto stumbled to his knees, catching himself with his hands before falling onto the well trodden floor of the tent. A particular course around the edges had been beaten down more than the other areas. Someone was a pacer.

"Hello," a man in full samurai armor, mask included, said with a sultry purr in his voice. "I'm very pleased to meet you. General Rinok has had to step out, but I am Vilhelm, his second in command, and I can certainly fulfill your request."

"That's an interesting name," Kazuto said. "You all have quite interesting names."

"Our families hail from very far away," Vilhelm said by way of an explanation. He looked over Kazuto's shoulder, and when Kazuto looked to see what had caught Vilhelm's attention, all he saw were the tent flaps moving.

"Ashleigh, if it will sate your morbid curiosity, by all means, watch."

"Watch what?" Kazuto asked, turning back to Vilhelm. The armor clad man had reached out his hand and taken off his mask. Kazuto gasped at his gray skin and almost white hair. A pair of long fangs protruded from his mouth, and his dark eyes seemed to hold Kazuto in place. He felt sucked in, like he was falling into a deep hole from which there was no escape. Part of him wanted to go.

"What is it you seek, young Kazuto," Vilhelm's voice asked from the distance. "I can give you all you want and more. I can give you freedom."

There was no Kazuto. There was only Vilhelm.

"Oh wow that was so cool. Please don't ever do that to me," Ashleigh said.

"Sadly," Vilhelm said, pushing past the now enthralled Kazuto, "it doesn't work on planeswalkers. I found that out the hard way upon meeting Sa'Raah long ago."

"You should learn to do whatever it is the eldrazi do," Ashleigh replied. "That definitely works on planeswalkers. Innistrad is proof of that. I wound up back there before finding you all here and had some unfinished business to attend to, but it was a total shitshow. Tentacly growths everywhere, people screaming about being real cool or something like that. I think that's what they were saying, anyway. I don't know. What does 'I'mrakul' mean to you?"

It had been a harrowing experience for her. Seeing what had once been Ellie thundering towards her fused to her horse screaming Ashleigh's name and that ever present phrase that echoed around her physically and mentally, almost pulling the planeswalker into the plane-wide cult of Emrakul...

She shivered involuntarily. If Odom were here he'd put his arm around her and ask what was wrong, but he wasn't. This was something Ashleigh had to do by herself.

"It means nothing. Now that this is done, we need to move. The Patron of the Moon tends to hang around the ruins of Minamo, the magic school destroyed in the Kami war. It was never rebuilt on the old grounds, but moved somewhere else. That is where we will present this moonfolk as an offering to summon the Patron."

0000000

Some weeks later, the army had made it to Lake Kamitaki. Moss and reeds had grown up on the ruins of the building that crashed into the lake millenia ago, painting an eerie picture in the early morning light. Mist clung to these artificial islands, obscuring most of their detail but here and there a roof tile was visible. Cranes stood around their edges, dipping long, elegant beaks into the water to feed on the fish and other creatures that made these ruins into a home, oblivious to the tragedy that had blessed them.

Vilhelm stood at the front of their little group, the enthralled Kazuto next to him. Rhyne held a dagger, not his typical ceremonial one, at the moonfolk's throat, waiting for the signal from Vilhelm.

"Oh great Patron of the Moon," Vilhelm began, "we implore you appear to bless us with your wisdom. The Soratami are in dire need of your guidance. To prove our need, we give unto you a sacrifice of our own blood."

The knife slid across Kazuto's throat and he was thrown face down into the water. Dark red spread out from his body. The waves toyed with the blood, pushing it back and forth from the shore.

For a time nothing happened, but then in the distance something began to manifest. A brown colored creature with great bird wings and the face of a donkey with long teeth, the forearms of a mantis, and a lion's tufted tail at the end of its long, sinuous body began to pulse in and out of focus. Three strange objects cloaked in a blue light floated around its head. The beast floated through the skies, drawing nearer and nearer.

"Archers at the ready," Rinok barked. Every bowstring grew taut, each arrow encircled with a binding slip to keep the spirit in the mortal realm long enough to be dispatched. He gave the signal and volley after volley of arrows flew through the sky. The lumbering spirit turned, attempting to flee, but the arrows struck it full on the side.

An unholy screech erupted from its throat as it descended, having no choice but to land and nurse its wounds. Arrows peppered its side, a dark substance that resembled blood leaking from each one.

Rinok drew his sword, which was now enveloped with a red glow, and sprinted over the ruins towards the creature. His heavy black cloak fell into the water as he ran, a sickening perversion of glee splattered across his face. The rest of the army moved to follow him, but Vilhelm held up a hand. "Only the general can slay a spirit," he reminded them.

The sword's glow changed from red to black to blinding white as he neared the downed spirit. It let out another screech at his approach, standing to defend itself. Rinok leapt off of a rock, pushing himself through the air like an arrow. This would be his greatest achievement, killing a god. It was also something of an experiment. Could he even kill a god?

Of course he could, Rinok said back to himself. He was the greatest warrior the multiverse had ever known. He would kill this deity and all the others on this plane. He would kill everything until there was nothing left to kill.

But that wasn't why he was here, he reminded himself as he brought his sword down on one of the creature's forearms, slicing it clean off and being sprayed with god blood. "He wanted to plunge the plane into eternal warfare, but not eternal destruction. Strife was a force that made people grow, annihilation accomplished nothing.

"I tastes your fear," Rinok said to the injured deity as he licked his lips, "and it is delicious."

He brought his sword down again into the clumsy creature's shoulder, pushing the glowing blade deeper and deeper until it was buried to the hilt. With a burst of strength and speed he wrenched it down and to the side, seeking a heart or major artery to sever. He was rewarded with another shower of blood.

"You will fall, beast," he cried, slashing wildly. The creature's attempts to escape were becoming weaker and weaker. Its voice grew fainter until Rinok was hacking away at a god resigned to its death with his sword. He stood atop the mortally wounded spirit drenched in blood and cackling to the sky.

Meanwhile, on Ottawara, the entire spectacle below had been witnessed by two Soratami patrolmen who raced through the streets of their city to sound the alarm. The citizenry deserved to know what had happened.

At the first sound of the alarm, Genku found his children with Narset and told them to stay quiet as he ran out into the city streets.

"What's going on?" He asked the first neighbor he saw.

"They're saying the Patron has been killed," the neighbor said. "I heard two guards screaming about it as they ran through here not five minutes ago."

"I have to tell my wife," Genku said, rushing back into the house to find Tamiyo.


	8. Chapter 8

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Seven: The Second Kami War

"Can Kami even die?" Kyari asked.

"Certainly," Tamiyo said. "O-Kagachi perished long ago."

"But didn't that Kami have its divinity stolen? Isn't that what Kyodai is?" the elf asked.

"Yes," Tamiyo said, "but other Kami can be killed. Our patrons are mortal spirits that can be destroyed in this realm much the same way demons and angels can on other planes. They will never age nor sicken, but they can be killed."

"Can we stop with the semantics of immortality and get on with the 'I told you so'?" Brock asked. "Because I did. I told you all Rinok was dangerous. And this is what it gets us, a raging war, a screwed up plane, and a dead god. But did you even listen to me, Tamiyo? No. You said that everything was fine. What are you going to do now? Sit in your ivory tower and watch as the plane is destroyed because you don't have the guts to go down there and fight for your home?"

"Brock, I swear to Sigarda herself that if you don't shut up I am going to gag you with a vine," Kyari snapped. "Nobody wants to hear it right now. We don't need petulant child Brock. We need the planner and the leader. Unless you want me to make all the decisions that you have to go with."

"Personally, Kyari," Tamiyo said, "I would like that very much. You by far have a cooler head than my son and as such are more fit for leading."

Kyari's eyes widened. That hadn't been her intent at all. This wasn't her home. Her only connection was with her friends and some contacts among various races. She thought of Sakae, the Orochi shaman who had given her a blessing to enter the colony and study its inhabitants. Kyari's disguise had been mediocre at best, and she had often suspected Sakae knew more than she let on, but that was to be expected from someone whose attunement with mana rivaled Kyari's.

"If that's the way it has to be," Brock said, holding back his anger, "then I will do what I think is best on my own."

"Brock," Kyari cried, "that's not what we need at all. We need a united front to face Rinok, not a haphazard band of conflicting factions."

"So you agree that we need to unite under one leader," Brock said.

"Yes."

"And that leader should be me. I accept your suboardination."

"Whoa." Kyari held up her hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa there horsey. I never said that."

"You didn't?"

"Brock what in hell are you even doing right now?" Kyari asked, frustration plain on her face.

Tamiyo found herself wondering how her son wanted to have a romantic relationship with Kyari if he kept making her angry all the time.

Narset had disentangled herself from the children and left them with their father to go find Tamiyo and the other planeswalkers. When she walked in on the shouting match between Kyari and Brock, part of her wanted to take a step back. Tamiyo watched them with her arms crossed with what appeared to be mild disinterest.

"What's going on," Narset whispered, sidling up to Tamiyo.

"My son is being a disgrace to his family name," the Soratami woman whispered back.

"Genku told me about the Patron. I had slipped away to find the children and make sure they were still okay. What'll we do now?"

"That, I believe, is up to these young people."

"Kyari is hardly young. Elves live a good long while."

"You have a point, but as a planeswalker she is younger than we are."

"Speak for yourself," Narset joked quietly, flipping her gray streaked hair and batting her eyelashes, bringing attention to the crow's feet flanking her bright eyes. "I'm still spry and hardly jaded."

Tamiyo rolled her eyes. Narset could be entertaining, that was certain, but right now entertaining was the last thing they needed. They needed Brock and Kyari to stop arguing.

"Children," Tamiyo interjected, "can we please attempt to get on the same page? Now it's chilly out here even for me. Kyari, the edges of your lips are turning purple. We need to go back inside."

Kyari and Brock immediately stopped mid-sentence at Tamiyo's interruption. Brock trembled with rage, but he noticed the quick puffs of warm air coming from Kyari's shaking body and that softened his mood some.

"Agreed," he said, biting the back of his tongue on one side. "We should go back inside."

They retired again to the sitting room and took up places around the kotatsu. Genku prepared more tea, which Kyari downed with gusto, taking whatever she could get to warm herself back up. She lamented once more not dressing for winter weather.

"We need a plan," Tamiyo said. "Suggestions?"

"Full assault on Rinok, take out the problem at the source?"

"Brock," Kyari sighed, "he's got Rhyne with him, and probably Vilhelm. We can't just go running into a military camp surrounded by soldiers. Facilitating peace talks between the races he's riled into war should be a first priority. I have some connections among the Orochi, Satsuki and Sakae, first and second daughters of the line of Seshiro. We can start there."

"Humans seem to have rallied to whatever cause this Rinok has been promoting. I'm not entirely sure what it is he's promised, but if it involves the death of our Kami then we must stop it," Tamiyo said. "Brock, you do have a point. Our home is under threat from an outside force. We would be remiss to stay on the sidelines." She looked off to the side, in the direction of the house's library where Genku was no doubt distracting the children with one of her stories. Rumiyo would be in the center with the others sitting around their father's feet with Nashi in Genku's lap. Her eyes became misty and she brushed the forming tears away.

"The Soratami still keep an eye on what goes on down below, right? They still have a connection with the ground at New Minamo?" Narset asked.

"We do, but it is limited," Tamiyo explained. "We wouldn't want the human wizards to get suspicious of us. Humanity is already an incredibly suspicious lot. No offense."

"None taken," Narset said at the same time Brock said "Some taken."

"Did you think that maybe petty prejudices are stoking the flames of these conflicts your people just happen to have been following?" Brock suggested.

"It is undoubtedly part of it," Tamiyo said. "Orochi pride, Nezumi sneakiness, Akki zealotry, human suspicion, even Soratami superiority, all are contributing factors. However, we are not fighting a culture war, but an actual one."

"It seems that the fighting will be sooner rather than later," Genku said, poking his head through the door. His ears dangled limply. "The Soratami militia is going to enter the conflict on behalf of the Kami."

"The Kami hardly need people to fight for them," Narset said.

"The fewer gods that die to these madmen, the better," Genku said.

"I'm going with them," Brock said, standing.

"Nonsense," Tamiyo said.

"Brock," Kyari said, "we need you here to help us figure out how to stop Rinok."

"If I go with them, I can lead them right to Rinok and make sure this whole thing stops before it can start."

"These people call themselves the Kamigawa Spiritual Liberation Army, or some such tripe, according to Kazuto, my research assistant," Tamiyo said. "I can take a guess at their motive. Genku, dear, can you bring me the scrolls he's been supplying from the study?"

"Absolutely." Genku left, only to reappear moments later with an armful of scrolls.

Tamiyo selected a number and directed him to pile the rest in the corner. "I've had Kazuto doing some fieldwork for me, but he should have delivered another report by now. This is what we have on the KSLA." She spread one of the scrolls out along the table. Rows and columns of neat handwriting dominated the space with a few rudimentary sketches here and there. "He'd never actually gotten to view the KSLA in action, but he was able to chronicle some of their effects before I sent him on his last mention, just after the fall of Okina Temple."

She began to read from the scroll, "Humans refer to the unaffiliated army roaming the plains as the Kamigawa Spiritual Liberation Army. Reactions to this armed group have been mixed, with some espousing support for their vague mission while others decry their goals as sacrilege. It is plain to me that their main objective is eradication of the Kami, drawing them out into our world from beyond the veil by stirring up conflict among the various races and attacking holy sites. They leave travelers' shrines and temples in ruins, destroy sacred trees, and show no mercy to the priests and monks that get in their way.

"The humans who encourage the KSLA view themselves and the world as oppressed by the Kami and their demands for praise and tribute in return for protection or blessing. The human emperor, as can best be determined, has taken no action against the KSLA, viewing them as little more than an extremist group that will eventually run out of steam and followers when their promises are not met. While such things have occurred in this world's past, it should be noted that the ruling dynasty has a habit of underestimating threats to their continued existence. Surely Princess Michiko thinks poorly of those who have replaced her family in ruling over the humans. May she and Kyodai bless us all."

Tamiyo sighed. "I've been trying to get him to keep his personal feelings out of research. It's going to be a long process."

She pulled out another scroll, "Sources claim that the second son of the line of Seshiro was murdered by a Nezumi assassin while on a routine patrol of the edges of the Jukai. A Nezumi dagger was found alongside the young Orochi's body and his wounds were consistent with those from a stealthy attack. The Orochi responded to this attack by launching a full assault on the Nezumi and have remained in conflict ever since. At this time it is uncertain whether the kitsune, sometime allies of the Orochi, will enter the conflict. The Nezumi would be ill-equipped to stave off an attack from the militarized Orochi, especially due to their low status among the races of this world. They have few allies and numerous enemies who would like to see them struck from the face of the earth."

"Nobody is to tell Nashi," Tamiyo said sternly. "The child already faces so much here, I wouldn't want him to feel his entire race is hated by everyone."

"It's okay, Tamiyo-sama," Nashi said, having snuck into their little war room. "I know that the Nezumi aren't liked by anybody."

Nashi stood there with his hands behind his back and his eyes on the floor to hide the tears, but they slid down his snout anyway.

"Nashi," Tamiyo rushed to the little boy's side. "I said you could call me mother, in fact I would prefer it. Don't you want to make your mother happy?"

"But..." Nashi sniffed. "I'm not like the other kids. You're all so graceful and you can go outside and I'm stuck in here and I'm clumsy and my feet..." The child broke down into sobs.

Tamiyo kissed the little boy's forehead. "Nashi, you're just as much my son as Brock is."

"But he isn't your son!" Nashi wailed, hiding his face in Tamiyo's shoulder. "He said so himself."

"You heard that?" Tamiyo asked, giving Brock a cross look over the child's shoulder. "Nashi, that's not true. Brock and I just had a misunderstanding. Yes, I adopted both of you, so you're not actually my children. I didn't give birth to you. But that doesn't mean I'm not your mother. Mothers take care of their children, they teach them about the world and raise them to live in it. Can you honestly say I haven't done any of that for you?"

"Are you going to keep talking about yourself?" Brock asked. "Because it seems to me that this is about Nashi not feeling at home here, much like I once did."

"Baraq, can you please be quiet," Tamiyo hissed.

"Listen, Nashi-chan," Brock said, moving to sit opposite to where Tamiyo held Nashi, "I know that it's hard. You're the only one here in this city who isn't a Soratami, and it's going to make growing up difficult. Trust me, I know. I did the same thing before I learned how to walk behind the air like Tamiyo and Master Narset. It hurts, doesn't it, when the other children laugh at you because you'll fall through the clouds?"

Nashi nodded.

"And when they call you clumsy because of how different your feet are?"

He nodded again.

"They did the same thing to me. Times and fashion might change, but people don't, no matter where you are on any world. That's one thing I've learned since I left. So you can do one of two things, you can cry about it and let it hurt you, or you can own it. Celebrate being different. I bet that with your dark fur you're good at hiding in the shadows."

"I am good at hide and seek," Nashi revealed reluctantly.

"You've probably got a better sense of smell than the other kids, too, don't you." It was less a question and more a statement of fact.

"I know what Tamiyo-sama and Genku-sama are cooking before we get to the kitchen."

"See? You're different from the other kids, but that doesn't make you worse. In some ways you're better and you can use those differences to do things they can't. Can you make me a promise, even though I may not be your oniisan I can still be your aniki, can you promise me that you'll use those differences to protect the people you care about?"

Nashi nodded vigorously, sniffing mucus back into his nose at he did so. "I can do that oniisa- I mean, aniki."

"Good, now I need to talk to our mother alone for a little bit, okay?"

"Okay, aniki!" Nashi said, scampering away to find the other kids.

"How did you..." Tamiyo looked at her oldest son, incredulous.

"It's impossible to understand someone unless you've been in their shoes."

"That's all well and good," Narset said, "and I'd hate to break up a family bonding moment, but we've got to get back to this situation with your planeswalker friend, Rinok."

"He is decidedly not our friend," Kyari said. "Neither him, nor Rhyne, nor Vilhelm. We worked against them in the maze of Xerex. None of them have respect for the sanctity of life."

"So you've told me," Narset said. "I seem to remember a Rinok stirring up trouble on Tarkir some time ago."

"He affiliates himself with the Mardu there," Kyari said. "I know what you're thinking, they're extinct, but remember that some of the Dromoka still worshiped the Kin Trees long after her rule was cemented."

"So he's an honorable savage?" Narset asked. "Kolaghan left hardly any records intact when she assumed power. I'm afraid my image of the Mardu is incomplete. It's not like Atarka, who was entirely apathetic so long as she got fed. But going off their bloodthirsty raids that happen today and working backwards, they might have at one time had an honor system? Whatever was in place has been totally supplanted by Kolaghan's expansionist desires."

"I'm none too sure on that either," Kyari replied.

"Well whatever he is, he seems to have killed a Kami," Brock said. "For that, he cannot be forgiven."

"That's not up for debate. We know he's dangerous," Kyari said. "I ran into his eternal war everywhere agenda before you ever met him."

"His first attempt at taking Kamigawa was years ago," Tamiyo said. "But the Twin Kami repelled him and were supposedly barring the way back."

"He must have used the artifact we found in Xerex," Brock said. "It's a planar portal, circumventing the blind eternities entirely. Even non-planeswalkers could probably use it."

"So he's finally succeeded in starting the Second Kami War and we practically gave him the means," Kyari sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I wish we hadn't started arguing the second the artifact appeared. It fell into the wrong hands because we couldn't stop fighting."

"The wrong hands are any hands but mine and yours," Brock said. "Too many people wanted it."

"Never forget the corrupting influence of power, my student," Narset said.

"I realize, Master," Brock groaned. "Either way, we have to get down there, kill Rinok, and get the artifact."

"We can certainly try, but the artifact is of paramount importance," Kyari said. "If Michiko and Kyodai can keep people out of the plane, perhaps they can keep people on it. We can at least imprison Rinok here if we have to."

"He dies." Brock was adamant. He wouldn't budge. "Some people don't deserve to live. He and Voidcaller are among those numbers."

"Everyone deserves life, Brock," Tamiyo said, "even though we may not agree with what they do with it. I'm sure there are places in the Multiverse where Rinok fits right in."

"Anyway," Kyari redirected the conversation, "back to the peace talks and how we're going to deal with the wars between the non-Kami races. How do we go about that?"

"We'd have to negotiate surrenders or ceasefires with favorable terms for both sides, as well as find a way to pin their conflicts on Rinok so they realize they've been tricked into fighting," Narset said.

"Good idea," Kyari said. "Let's get started, then. Before winter gets in full swing."


	9. Chapter 9

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Eight: The Emperor's New Clothes

"That was..." Ashleigh began, "...almost too easy?"

"Kami, as far as we know, aren't exactly designed to defend themselves in the mortal world," Vilhelm said, watching Rinok's violent display with contempt through his mask. "At least, not according to these farmers who fancy themselves soldiers."

"These spirits seem mostly harmless," she responded. They didn't whisper painful things to her. Since arriving on Kamigawa, she'd only heard a soothing melody, punctuated here and there by the occasional scream of agony.

"Mostly harmless?" A soldier said bitterly. "The Kami extract tribute from us mortals, sometimes more than we can even give. But if we don't do it, them who will protect us, the priests say. Well we say we protect ourselves. That's what this army is all about."

"It's true," Rinok said, sauntering up to the group, covered in blood. "The exceptionalism of humanity can be seen in our ability to rise above any conflict with bloodshed."

"Well..." Ashleigh took a moment of pause, rolling her eyes to the top left and pursing her lips. "I do like bloodshed."

"Of course you do," Rinok guffawed. "You're human, aren't you?"

"That's debatable. Can any of us be considered merely human anymore, Rinok?" she asked, arching an eyebrow in an imitation of Odom.

"I'm still not satisfied with the lack of involvement from the governing bodies," Vilhelm said, his voice muffled through the terrifying mask. "They should have taken notice of our little group by now."

"We need to get moving," Rinok said. "No doubt the Soratami will be here soon."

00000

Tenth Emporer of the Kuromizu Dynasty, the eighth dynasty since the Kami War, Masahiro paced in his study. He knelt before the small shrine containing a gold and ivory statue of two young women, identical except for one's serpentine features, and lit some incense.

"Holy Sisters of the Twin Kami," Masahiro prayed as the scents of ginger and jasmine filled the air, "grant me your guidance to deal with these uprisings among the peasant folk, and grant them the mercy of your brethren spirits. They know not what forces they tamper with."

The sisters remained silent, just as they always did. Masahiro stared at the statue, imploring, almost begging with his soul for the sisters to appear and grant him guidance.

"Your Majesty," a muffled feminine voice said from outside the door, "your chief military adviser is here for your meeting."

Emperor Masahiro stood swiftly and brushed the ash from his lavish silken robes. The entire study was decorated in reds and golds with tapestries of graceful, white Kirin gracing the walls. His own dress of pastel greens and blues seemed weak and out of place. He was scarcely older than thirty and felt his youth as a thorn in his side every time an adviser who had served his father opened their mouth.

He took his place in the study chair, hoping the desk before him would hide his trembling hands. "You may enter," he called, waiting for the moment General Yamamori opened the door.

Yamamori Takeshi bowed low before his emperor before setting his intricately decorated helmet on the only empty chair in the room. He remained standing to give his address, despite the stress it put on his joints. Easily twice the age of the young emperor in front of him, Takeshi tended to look down on the youth's decisions, still viewing the Tenth Emperor of the Kuromizu Dynasty as little more than a child. Never mind that young Masahiro had a wife, several concubines, and two legitimate and four illegitimate children scampering about the palace relocated and rebuilt far from the craters of the Araba created during the Kami War. The higher reaches of said palace served as stables for the trained moths ridden by General Yamamori's soldiers.

"You may begin, General Yamamori," Masahiro said.

"Your Majesty, sources report that the rebel army has amassed more followers and laid a swath of destruction from the Jukai to the ruins of Minamo. Their destruction of shrines has angered the spirits, and if they are not defeated we might very well have another Kami War on our hands. I require only your authorization to take a trained contingent of moth riders and wipe them out entirely." Takeshi paused to catch his breath. "The battles between the Orochi, Akki, and Nezumi continue to rage on the borders between their lands, sometimes spilling over onto our territory. As of yet, the kitsune have not entered the fray on behalf of any faction. I have received word from Soft-Ear, a kitsune priest at the Okina temple complex, that tensions there continue to grow between the human monks and the Orochi shaman regardless of peace efforts facilitated by his remaining ascetics."

"Have we no word from the Orochi themselves?" Masahiro asked, attempting to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

"Souta, their chieftain, has declined any audience with emissaries I've sent," General Yamamori answered curtly. He thought the damned snake was a fool for declining. The chieftain had been approached by an emissary of the Emperor, for the Kami's sake. Why would he refuse?

"We have no choice but to fight these people with force?" Masahiro asked. "I am loathe to spill the blood of my citizens when it is not required."

"Your Majesty," General Yamamori began, "it is imperative that we stomp this rebellion before it gathers more steam. A populist uprising of this sort would undoubtedly destroy the imperial government. The citizens of this empire look to you as a vassal of the Kami chosen by the Holy Sisters themselves to make their will known in the mortal realm."

"Gather the Shoguns," Masahiro relented. "We will see what they have to say."

000000

"Tamiyo, what do you know of the human emperor?" Brock asked after they had been poring over scrolls for several hours. The sun had since gone down and a chill wind howled through the city streets.

"Kuromizu Masahiro is no more than thirty, has a secure heir to his throne, and relies heavily on his advisers. Humans have believed for a long time that the emperors are chosen by the Kami to carry out their will in the mortal realm and as such have attained a pseudo-deity status," Tamiyo said. "Idiocy and propaganda if you ask me."

"People create things to make them feel more comfortable," Narset said. "I can imagine the need for a divinely chosen ruler after what happened had something to do with this belief's emergence."

"I've seen people create worse," Kyari said.

"So, they think he's some sort of god, huh?" Brock mused.

"You didn't know that?" Kyari asked.

"I wasn't raised human. My earliest memories are of this place, remember?" Brock replied. He passed a hand over his bald head and readjusted his beads. The Ojutai medallion felt heavy around his neck. Sure, his childhood was spent in this cloud city, but his adolescence had been shaped by the ice breathing dragonlord of Tarkir. Did he really know what it was to be a human on this plane?

"The Emperor is the least of our worries. His advisory board is in more direct control of governmental affairs," Tamiyo said, digging through her scrolls once more.

"How do you know all of this?" Brock asked. "You're hardly here."

"I have eyes and ears collecting stories in my absence, son," Tamiyo said. "An aid or two to our ambassador are in my employ in much the same manner as Kazuto."

Genku stood outside the door, waiting for the appropriate time to tell his wife that the body of her assistant had been recovered near the corpse of their Patron Kami. His brother, a mid-ranking soldier in the Soratami militia, had returned with the news as well as information about the armed group that was responsible for their deaths. The group was capable of breaking down their camp and moving quickly across all types of terrain, leaving few traces of their presence near the site of the Kami's murder other than some trampled grass.

"This is a rough sketch of the tents this armed group uses," Tamiyo spread yet another scroll out on the table. Brock and Narset shot up onto their knees, leaning over to get better views.

"Similar in design to the Kolaghan..." Narset muttered.

"Compact design, tactical advantage for swift movements, easily carried in a small pack..." Brock mumbled.

"You've seen this before?" Tamiyo asked.

"They have," Kyari said. "This has Rinok's name all over it. The nomadic Kolaghan are specialists of quick attacks and quick getaways. Their raids are often over in a matter of hours rather than battles lasting days."

"So this group lacks honor," Tamiyo said flatly. She flipped an ear over her shoulder, her amber eyes narrowing. "That will put them at odds with the established military of the humans. Their Empire is divided into Shogunates, each governed by a shogun, his daimyo, and their samurai enforcers. Honorable battles are their only means of resolving conflict. Rather than die in battle, they would take their own lives to preserve their reputations. Be prepared for this, Brock, if you decide to have dealings with Emperor Masahiro."

"I'm looking forward to it," Brock said.


	10. Chapter 10

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Nine: The Trees Have Eyes

Sakae, Second Daughter of the line of Seshiro and High Shaman of the Orochi, dutifully poured three cups of tea, one for herself, one for her older sister, and one for their guest and esteemed friend, Kyari Alexiona. The three women met at the ruined Okina Temple complex to discuss what could be done to restore peace to the forest.

"Tell me, Kyari," Satsuki, First Daughter, asked the elf, "where is it you have been all this time? Why only now have you come to us?"

"I've been here and there, Satsuki," Kyari said by way of an explanation. "The life of a traveling scholar is surely not interesting enough to take time from the task at hand. It suffices to say that these goings on have impeded my travel somewhat."

"I see," Satsuki said, but it was plain in her voice that she didn't really believe the vague explanation.

"I am thankful you both could meet with me on such short notice. Ever since the attack on the temple, this world has felt out of order, and I believe I have an explanation as to why. There is a group of rebel humans who have made it their mission to destroy the Kami. The Patron of the Moon has already fallen to their leader's bloodlust. I've had dealings with him in the past. He calls himself Rinok, and he does not listen to reason," Kyari said. The Orochi sisters looked at her expectantly and Kyari took a hasty sip of her tea. They then took small sips from their own cups.

Satsuki pulled her flaming red braid over one shoulder and toyed with the end of it. "So humanity is using this chaos to draw out the Kami and destroy them? Why?"

Sakae sat back, awaiting Kyari's answer.

"I'm not entirely sure. In my travels, I've learned sometimes a group resents those who look after them if they feel the price of the protection is too high." Kyari lied. Rinok's entire goal was total war for eternity, and he could and would twist anything he found to achieve that goal. Kyari's certainty of these facts would not be shaken.

"Human stupidity," Sakae spit.

"Sakae," her sister cautioned. "We do not insult other races when they are in our company. Do we need another repeat of the debacle that you started with the monks?"

"I don't take it as an insult," Kyari said. "Everyone can be stupid sometimes."

"Even the Orochi, it seems," Satsuki sighed. "Our brother is leading them to war against the Nezumi, and they don't even stand a chance against our superior weaponry and numbers. They have stealth, but we know the land so well that they can't hide from us even if they tried."

"I understand your younger brother was killed by a Nezumi?" Kyari asked.

"Indeed," Satsuki bowed her head. Sakae, for her part, sat perfectly still, seething.

"My condolences," Kyari said.

"We have mourned his loss, and now we must think of how to honor his life," Satsuki smiled sadly.

Kyari took another sip of the light, floral tea. A few earthy undertones made their way to the front of her mouth. She inhaled deeply before setting the cup down. "Is there any reason that the Nezumi would attack your brother? I understand many of them work for hire, so could this have been a lone assassin?"

"That's just it," Sakae said, "It wasn't an assassin's knife, but one of standard Nezumi construction. The ratfolk have very distinctive knives."

"Do you still have it?" Kyari asked. "I'd like to examine it."

"Unfortunately, we don't. I understand your talent for examining the mana flow of living things, but was unaware it could be extended to objects," Satsuki said.

"I've actually never tried on objects, but it couldn't hurt to try. If not, I do have a friend who has a similar talent but for mental energies. She might have been able to shed some light on the situation." Kyari sighed. She didn't even know where to find Lisandra, and could only assume the psychic vampire had returned to her home on Ravnica where she served a shadowy master.

"I do wish we still had that knife, then," Sakae said. "Any sort of insight would be important in stemming the flow of our revered ancestor's blood."

"It is regrettable that we disposed of the blade, sister," Satsuki said. "However, our older brother and his armies let their pride sway them too quickly. We must not allow more to make the same mistake, especially not after what happened to the hatchery."

"The hatchery?" Kyari's ears perked up,

"The same night Okina Temple was attacked, so too was the Orochi Hatchery. Many mothers lost their eggs even though our eggwatchers saved as many as they could. My own eggs were among those lost in the blaze," Satsuki brushed a tear away from her eye, but still more flowed over her scaly skin.

"Satsuki..." Kyari breathed. "I'm so sorry."

The Orochi woman pulled herself together, but tears still stood at the edge of her lashes. Her sister reached across and took one of her hands. As High Shaman, Sakae wouldn't have eggs of her own, so her sister's loss was felt all the more keenly.

"I'm going outside," Kyari said. "Maybe I can figure out what happened."

"There were charred remains of human bodies, definitely not monks, scattered through the complex. I can only assume it was a suicide mission to attack a holy place and draw in the Kami," Satsuki sniffed.

"Well that much is obvious, but fire is the modus operandi of one of Rinok's associates, and I'm curious about what the land can tell me." Kyari rose, not explaining the foreign phrase to the sisters, and rushed outside. She knelt on the grass, sinking her hands into the earth. The soft, cool dirt swallowed her up to her elbows. She gripped an antediluvian root in her hands. It connected to one of the massive trees surrounding Okina Temple. "Show me what you saw, ancient guardian."

The tree flooded Kyari with its eons of knowledge, unable to stem the flow of ages. She felt herself blinded by the sheer volume of information, deafened by the roar of centuries. She almost missed what she was searching for, so small a blip was it in the life of this tree. She saw a wild looking man with unkempt hair and a scraggly beard drawing a knife emblazoned with symbols that made Kyari's stomach churn. She'd seen those knives wielded by some shamans of Jund. They were used to tap into the lives of other beings, drawing away their strength for the wielder. Sometimes those knives were turned on the user in a pinch. She saw Rhyne do just that before throwing fire at the temples, some of it spreading to the trees.

She reflexively released the root, her arms being pushed back up through the earth by some unseen force. She snorted in rage. Rhyne dared come here, to this holy place, the very heart of Kamigawa, and ripped it out with his fiendish fire. He would pay. Rinok would pay. Whoever else was with them would definitely pay. For now, though, Kyari sat down, crossed her legs in the lotus position, and began the long work of trying to repair the leylines jumbled by this act of sacrilege.

000000

"She's been gone a while," Brock said, pacing his Soratami parents' front parlor.

"She's meeting with Orochi royalty," Tamiyo said, packing up the scrolls supplied to her by Kazuto. She resolved to keep them separate from the others, as a sort of memorial to the young man's spirit. "Did you think it would be quick?"

"She said she wouldn't be long," Brock said.

"Maybe it turned out to be more complicated than we thought?" Narset suggested. She and Kyari's travels together on Tarkir ensured they wouldn't be strangers to unexpected diversions.

"I'm going down there," Brock said.

"No!" The two women exclaimed in unison.

"Kyari is their guest," Tamiyo explained. "Do you realize how your intrusion would look to them? Barging in on what is, at its core, a diplomatic meeting would only heighten tensions. Better we wait."

"I don't want to wait. I should have gone with her," Brock said.

"They trust her," Narset said. "And only her. They've had dealings with Kyari before and understand her profound respect for the land rivals their own. It's a point of commonality they can build on, something you don't have with them."

"What if she gets into trouble and I'm not there to pull her out of it?"

"Baraq," Tamiyo said, using the name she'd given him from a far flung plane, "Kyari is an adult. She is also a planeswalker and perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

"The amount of times I've saved her ass beg to differ," Brock muttered.

"Language, son," Tamiyo scolded. "Honestly, if one of the children heard you I'd have to beat you senseless."

"You never beat me before," Brock said.

"I never had reason to. All things considered, you were a very well-behaved boy."

"Can we not get onto the topic of my childhood right now?" Brock sighed in exasperation.

The door slid open and a barefoot Kyari with dirt crusted on her arms to the elbow shuffled in. Her eyes glowed darkly. Her hair fell out of its typically neat braid. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, cheeks more flushed than usual.

"I know who ruined the temple complex," Kyari said flatly. "I was right. It was Rhyne."

"So what are we to do?" Brock asked.

"We destroy him. We scour him from this world and all others for daring to rip out the heart of a plane and plunge it into chaos," Kyari growled. "He is unfit to survive, and will feel my fury, as will Rinok, and anyone else with him. This... what he did was so wrong. On par with Phyrexia. The earth screamed at me, begged for relief that I couldn't give that night the plane pulled me here. You don't even understand just how much pain this world was feeling, what it's still feeling, Brock. And you never will. But I do, so I'll call the shots. I'll speak for this world and decide exactly how we go about destroying Rinok's army before they can take another spirit's life."

"The ultimate prize for a man like that," Tamiyo mused, "would be the most powerful and revered of all Kami. If I were in his position, I would find a way to dispatch the Twin Kami, with the Holy Sisters gone, the barrier would be broken and all out war could be raged on the spirit realm."

"Is there a way to warn them?" Brock asked.

"Outside of direct prayer, maybe not. I'm not entirely sure how to summon a Kami that isn't a patron. They just kind of appear," Tamiyo said, shuffling through more scrolls.

"We need a safe place to try and summon them," Brock said. He reached out to put an arm around Kyari, but she shoved him off.

"Do not touch me."

"I won't, but you need to calm down."

"How can I be calm when...that... is still out there, doing more harm to this plane and others? I will feel every last rip and tear in every world until he's utterly destroyed, for the sake of the multiverse."

Now she gets it, Brock thought, trying not to roll his eyes. Kyari had finally been pushed to the point where she developed a nemesis. She hid her face against his shoulder and started crying. Massive, body shaking sobs welled up from inside Kyari.

"What's wrong with him?" She asked between the heaving and sniffing.

Brock smoothed her disheveled hair. "I really don't know."


	11. Chapter 11

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 10: Meanwhile

"Thanks for helping me out with this, Marthel," Odom said as the two planeswalkers hefted several large boxes, staggering under their weight. "I can't really show my face around Nivix until I find a way to get that portal sphere from Rinok."

"No problem, but will Zegana take kindly to your primary offices moving into the Combine?" the dark skinned planeswalker asked, tossing his head to get a stray loc out of his eye.

"I'm as much of a member of the Simic as I am of the Izzet. She can't really do anything about it according to the bylaws on inter-guild cooperation. Besides, Zameck isn't my favorite of the guild halls, but she's the one who insisted my offices be there in the first place so she could keep an eye on me. Everyone who had a hand in Krajj or worked directly under Momir in some way has to be watched."

"Zarek must be so relieved you won't be around for a while," Marthel said. "You told me your last encounter with him went worse than expected."

"Better. Oh you should have seen the look on his face. He thinks that if Niv Mizzet finds out about other worlds that he'd flip his lid, but if there's one thing I've learned in my time on this plane, it's never underestimate the Firemind. You can't be fifteen thousand years old, be one of the original signers of the guildpact, and not know what planeswalkers are."

"So what exactly does Niv Mizzet want with the portal sphere anyway?" Marthel asked, shifting his weight to keep the boxes from tumbling down on top of him. I should have brought Nadia, he thought, she could carry this without any problem.

"Honestly I suspect he just wants it to have something rare and valuable. The Firemind is by no means an idiot, but he is still a dragon. I know he's been disappointed since Beleren solved the maze rather than Ral. Mostly it just makes him disappointed in Ral, especially after all that trouble with Melek. A rare artifact of unknown provenance or power could provide him with a renewed sense of relevancy and security."

Marthel screwed up his face in confusion. "When did you start getting into psychology?"

"Something I picked up from Ash. She borrows, I copy."

Something about the way he said it piqued Marthel's interest. "You haven't even heard from her since the maze? How long ago was that?"

"Two months, 15 days."

"You're keeping track?"

"Not consciously. Brobecue misses her, though, so it's hard to not acknowledge how long it's been."

"She'll come back, wherever she went to. She always does."

"I hope so."

0000000

"Well look who's back after their long vacation," Mirko cried, smirking the insufferable smirk Lisandra had long wanted to wipe off of his face. She knew she was a far more suitable heir to Szadek than Mirko could ever be. Why he'd been selected by Lazav to run the maze, she'd never know.

Except she did. Her own kin had been chosen to be the Selesnyan representative, not that Emmara would ever acknowledged Lisandra if they met in public.

"It was not a vacation, Mirko. I have been working on a private project, and think I might be on the verge of a breakthrough."

"Regardless, your presence has been missed. Szadek is practically a ghost of himself." Mirko began laughing at his own joke. The ghost of House Dimir's former leader haunted the halls occasionally, less and less often these days, preferring to leave most of his ideas in Mirko or, increasingly, Lisandra's hands. She'd seen the factions forming for years between Lazav and dear departed Szadek's spiritual successors. It was only a matter of time before things came to a head.

"I miss my office," Lisandra said, ducking down to avoid one of Mirko's embraces. She skirted the edge of the wall, ready to duck and send him fangs first into the stone if he tried anything else. "Why can't you take a hint, Mirko," she mused to herself. "There are plenty of petty little mortals more interested in you than I am."

She rolled her eyes, unlocking the door to her office. Everything remained in its place, precisely as she had left it some indeterminable amount of time ago.

"You've been gone a while," her spectral benefactor said coolly, floating through the wall.

"It took me longer to get back than I anticipated," she said, deliberately vague. In death Szadek had lost some of the power he'd had in life.

One mortal and one spiritual pair of eyes swept the room, settling on a fly clinging to a moth eaten tapestry hanging behind Lisandra's favorite red leather wingback chair. A gift from a friend, that particular type of leather couldn't be found on Ravnica.

"Dahni, I know you're there." Lisandra sat down in her chair as she addressed the fly behind her. "Lazav will have to teach you better than that if you're going to pull one over on a couple of old pros."

The fly dropped from the wall, changing back to its typical form of an adolescent human. Little could be seen of his clothing other than an oversized cape made from the same material as Lazav's. It dragged the ground behind him.

"Dahnivan Trent," Szadek's ghost began, "did nobody teach you that it's disrespectful to spy on your elders?"

"Isn't that what this guild does for a living?" the boy quipped back.

"Yes, but we don't spy on each other," Lisandra said. "House Dimir is in a special place. Most people forget we exist, and those that know of us are few and far between. It takes constant work to maintain that place, and I'll not have some cocksure shapeshifting kid ruin that just because he's Lazav's pet project."

"Yes, Lisandra. Sorry, Lisandra," Dahni said, shuffling out of her office, hanging his head as he did so.

"No, I don't believe I was too harsh on him," Lisandra answered the spectral Szadek's unspoken question. "You know as well as I do this guild is fracturing." She rested her head in her gloved hands, almost forgetting about the Eyes of Phenax covered by said gloves. The layer of fabric did little to block the God of Deception's magic. A field of green and white flowers bloomed in Lisandra's mind's eye. A lone elf in a white dress with flowing blonde hair tossed by a strong wind stood in the middle of it. She recognized its facial features, not her sister's but her own. Lisandra immediately jerked her hands away with a hiss.

Szadek was gone. Lisandra at last had blessed silence and solitude, but now it would be spent pondering her strange vision.

0000000

Sverre entered his lab once more, closing and locking the door behind him for good measure. Oona wouldn't be looking for him. The former Queen of the Fae had taken up afternoon naps during their residency in Helheim. Something about the ever present twilight that was only broken in a few places by shafts of sunlight leading to Medheim above made her drowsy, and Sverre had to agree with her. However, this was the only time he could be alone to continue his work. The sphere had escaped him, not that it would help him achieve immortality or godlike power, but there were other things he could do until the next ancient piece of planeswalker magic surfaced.

He felt the shifting of the earth. Ragnarok was coming, the tree was preparing itself to once again draw strength from Helheim to birth heroes and villains alike. He thought of the stone circles in the palace courtyard illuminated by the midday sun. The ancient etchings displayed in shadow against the bright blue of the stone described the process in detail and were possibly an anchor created by whatever made this plane, be it the Multiverse or a long dead planeswalker. Sverre had, as of yet, found no indication that this plane was artificial, but then again as the saying went "they don't make them like they used to."

 **AN: So I had to dive deep and do a lot of math for this, and all of the Ravnica stuff. Based on what I've found through the Wiki and stories (chiefly those featuring Argus Kos), humans appear to age around half as fast on Ravnica as in the real world and on other planes, likely due to the casing surrounding the plane in a similar fashion to the Shard of Twelve Worlds. Using math with the assumed figure of 112 for Teysa's age and the fact that she was around and an adult for the episode with Krajj and the Nephilim, the loose timeline I've found is that said thing happened roughly 50 years prior to the events of RtR block and everyone's favorite Boy in Blue becoming our Living Guildpact. Since this fanfiction picks up shortly after that occurrence with our main storyline and few one shot/backstories take place shortly before Krajj and, more often, shortly before RtR, I have some tentative grasp on ages. This is all until Wizards comes along and retcons it, of course, but for now it seems that Odom, as a character, is in the 60-70 age bracket, putting him physically at 30-35. Elf age timelines are harder to pin down, but it's safe to say Lisandra was at least a young adult before running out on her own and getting picked up by House Dimir.**


	12. Chapter 12

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 11: YOU!

"Brock, you're standing on my hair," Kyari hissed from their position among some bushes. The plain before them was mostly barren, forcing them to hide in what sparse coverage they could find under the bright light of the midday sun. This particular patch of bushes barely provided enough room for two, causing Kyari's long braid to be caught under Brock's foot exactly where his footwrap covered the skin so he couldn't feel it.

"Shh, Kyari, they'll see us," Brock whispered, peering through the leaves at a black blot on the horizon, Rinok's main camp. "And we have to determine exactly how many and which planeswalkers we're up against to formulate our defenses appropriately."

"Yes, but we can hardly do that when I can't see and you're ripping my damn hair out."

"What?" Brock turned his head and jumped back a few inches in surprise, releasing Kyari's braid.

"How can you have all these plans yet be so unaware of what's going on around you?" Kyari asked, wrapping her braid loosely around her neck to keep it off the ground.

Brock had once again returned to peering through the leaves. "Shh. Something's happening. Someone is moving."

A lone black speck broke away from the blob, possibly a scout of some sort. They slunk away vaguely in the direction of Brock and Kyari, cutting away to the left before either could make out any details other than dark blue armor.

"I'm going to investigate the camp. Stay here, Kyari, in case I need back up."

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"Planeswalk away and find Marthel. He'll know what to do."

"Have you two established some sort of protocol if the other gets captured by a hostile force?"

"Something like that." Brock broke from the bushes, running off to the right where a small stand of trees stood several hundred yards away. He willed himself to not be seen by spies or scouts or even the wild animals, almost flying over the ground without leaving a single footprint.

Kyari waited in silence, watching the trees for any motion from Brock. She kept her attention fixed on the trees to the point where she didn't notice the footsteps behind her until it was too late.

A cold hand clapped over her mouth, magically stifling her scream.

"I need you to be quiet. I promise the spell will wear off soon," a female voice said.

Kyari was released and swiveled herself around on her knees only to come face to face with the Voidcaller.

"You!" She mouthed in surprise, taking in the image of Ashleigh in dark blue armor with her dark red hair tossed up into a bun.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here too. It's a great big party. What you need to know is that Rinok has Vilhelm and Rhyne with him, no doubt just as you suspected. I know it probably seems like Rinok is calling all the shots, but Vilhelm is mostly in charge from the shadows. He and I have an… agreement of sorts. Once I get what I'm after, I'm bouncing, but I know you probably wanted that information to help you out."

"Why are you even here?" Kyari asked, her voice returning.

"I…" the other planeswalker began to blush, toying with a stray bit of hair. "I feel…bad, I guess, about them coming here. I more or less said some things I wasn't proud of in the maze when they had me cornered and it led them here. I've been trying to take it all down from the inside now. You think I'm nuts? Rinok is insane. I watched him gleefully coat himself in the blood of a god. There's no telling what else that psycho might do, and don't tell anyone this because I will deny it but I'm scared of him."

"Haven't you gone back to Odom or Sverre for help?" Kyari asked. "Why go through all of this by yourself?"

"You remember Vilhelm, right? Psychic vampire? He's not as inept as he put on at the party. Dude's a crazy genius, tactician formerly among the ranks of the Falkenrath during Innistrad's many conflicts between vampire bloodlines. And did I mention he's psychic? I have to have all of them believing I'm on their side until the last possible minute. We made a deal. One dead planeswalker for the portal sphere. I never promised him who it'd be, but I'd rather it not be any of my friends. That said, if Brock tries to kill me I will not hesitate to return fire. He and I are on the same side in this conflict. I want what they're doing to stop. It sounds so beautiful here. I couldn't ever destroy a place like this. Hearing the spirits singing, it makes me wonder why I ever went down that path anyway." Ashleigh let out a long sigh.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Kyari asked. She knew she should be suspicious, but the mana flowing around Ashleigh ringed her in simple patterns with no evidence of deception. Regardless of the stunt she was pulling right now, the Voidcaller was proving herself trustworthy.

The woman sitting before her looked down. "I'm not sure. You just seem like the most levelheaded and understanding. Brock's too rigid to even consider believing information from me, you know that, but maybe you might, and it was really my only shot at getting the word out. You two are far less inconspicuous than you think. Get him back over here and planeswalk before they send more scouts. I'm going to go back and tell them what they saw was just a rabbit."

"You!" Brock shouted upon finding Kyari and Ashleigh sitting across from each other in the bushes. "I should have known you were behind this."

"Brock," Kyari stood up, moving between the monk and his self-proclaimed nemesis, "this isn't what it looks like. She's on our side."

"Of course she is," Brock spat. "And I bet she's going to ride in here on her abomination and wipe out Rinok's army too."

"If you hadn't tried to kill Abby I actually probably could have. I have no idea how big it was supposed to get."

"You need to leave before I kill you on the spot." Brock's hands burst into flame, catching the dry bushes ablaze as well.

In the distance, more specks broke off from the blob that was the camp.

"You guys need to planeswalk. Now." Ashleigh rose, lightning crackling around her fingers.

"Brock, we should listen to her," Kyari said, restraining one of his arms.

"Fine. But mark my words, Voidcaller, I'm coming back with reinforcements."

"Counting on it."

Minutes after Brock and Kyari planeswalked away, a group of soldiers found Ashleigh surrounded by burning bushes. She turned to them, bright red in the face, and said "I thought I saw a spider, heh."

They rolled their eyes, one going so far as to groan "Again?"

0000000

Brock and Kyari landed in a back alley on Ravnica. "This is the last place I remember him saying he'd be," Brock said. "Besides, we can find Odom here too, no doubt."

"What do you want with him?" Kyari asked.

"I want him to pull the reins on his girlfriend."

"Ashleigh's a person, Brock, not a horse."

"The Voidcaller isn't a person, Kyari."

"What's it going to take for you to stop fighting with her all the time. She wasn't attacking me. She was warning me. Rinok's definitely got Rhyne and Vilhelm with him, and Vilhelm isn't as innocuous as some of us were led to believe." Kyari tossed her braid over her shoulder and headed in the direction of Marthel's current Ravnica residence.

The convoluted callbox that had probably been designed by goblins high on mizzium smelting fumes finally allowed them inside Marthel's building. They knocked loudly on the door and were greeted by Nadia.

"Kyari, Brock, your presence is not expected," the angel said matter-of-factly as she escorted them to Marthel's tastefully decorated living room.

"This is new," Kyari commented on the décor.

"He decided we needed something other than animal skins. I'm inclined to agree," Nadia said.

"So, where is Marthel?" Brock asked. "I realize he enjoys his metropolitan lifestyle, but we're kind of on a time crunch."

Nadia bristled. "In the bedroom with Exava. I suggest you wait out here like I am. Would you like refreshments? I seem to have a talent for slicing cucumbers."

"Why am I not surprised that he's trying to date the Rakdos Blood Witch?" Brock groaned.

"I wouldn't call their interactions a date. I've seen mortals go on dates. Typically they involve conversation, a shared meal, or some other pleasurable activity done outside the confines of a bedroom."

"Nadia's just jealous," Marthel joked, strolling out of his bedroom wearing only his pants. He pushed his locs out of his face with one hand, but they just fell back into place. "What do you guys need?"

"Back up and a way to contact Odom," Brock said, cutting Kyari off.

"We're up against Rinok, Vilhelm, and Rhyne with Ashleigh as a potential double agent. She says she's only with them until she can get the portal sphere from Vilhelm," Kyari said.

"Says, Kyari. I don't trust her," Brock said.

"I'm inclined to trust her," Marthel said. "That portal sphere gets Odom his job with the Izzet back. Trust me, the man does not get along well with Zegana and is basically miserable. But if you want him to go get her, you're out of luck. That's not how they work."

"Look, Brock, we don't have much of a choice but to trust her, and considering how much of an ass you've been, we need all the allies we can get. Even the unsavory ones." Kyari crossed her arms.

"Basically I need someone to back me up against these psychos. Rinok's killed the Patron of the Moon, and I have no idea what other spirits he's going to go after in order to keep this crazy war going. The Orochi are fighting the Nezumi who are fighting the Akki. Rinok's own army consists of human rebels. So far the Kitsune are staying out of the conflict, but the Soratami will definitely be entering soon on a larger scale. These guys have to be wiped from the multiverse." Brock started pacing, the vein in his forehead starting to throb.

"Okay, Brock, I'll get involved and help you fight Rinok. Meddling in the affairs of other planes is something I cannot condone," Marthel said dramatically.

"Bullshit," Kyari coughed.

"Okay, so I meddle sometimes. Only when it's necessary." Marthel smirked. "Now, I have a lovely lady waiting for me to do horrible things to her. I need to return to my room."

After the door shut, Nadia said meekly, "I believe the substance I require is called 'mind bleach'."


	13. Chapter 13

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Twelve

Marthel settled into Tamiyo's sitting room, surrounded by her gaggle of children who were eager to inspect this new friend of their older brother's. Chief amongst their interests were his origins and his weapons. Marthel had just finished spinning lavish tales of how he acquired each of his swords, as well as his knife, when the subject switched.

"Where are you from?" Rumiyo asked repeatedly, talking over her siblings.

"I'm from a place far away, a place near where Elspeth and Ajani came from," Marthel answered.

"You know Mr. Cat!?" The children cried in cheerful amazement.

"We've met on a few occasions," Marthel responded.

Tamiyo, Narset, Brock, and Kyari entered the room. Genku herded his offspring out, much to their chagrin, allowing the planeswalkers to talk in peace.

"Do we have an estimate of how many spirits Rinok's succeeded in killing?" Marthel asked, growing serious.

It was Tamiyo who spoke first. Her flopping, lopine ears seemed to hang more limply. "Including our Patron, at least six more."

"There's no word from the human Emperor, Masahiro. At least not yet," Narset said. She began sifting through a pile of Tamiyo's scrolls in the corner. "The Nezumi and the Orochi are still at war. Kyari's intervention was unable to sway their leader, even though his sisters are with us."

"Damn that Souta," Tamiyo sighed. "I'm not surprised. The Orochi's pride will be their downfall."

"Enough about Souta. He's a lost cause. We have Sakae and Satsuki with us, and the high Shaman of the Orochi holds some weight," Kyari interjected.

"Brock," Marthel said, "you're being awfully quiet."

"How much longer are we going to sit and debate? We should be going down there and wiping them off of the face of the earth. For the good of everyone on this plane and every plane, we must." He was seething, the vein in his bald head throbbing.

"You're going to give yourself an aneurysm, Brock," Narset cautioned. "Calm yourself. It serves no purpose to proceed without a plan."

"But the more we wait the longer he has to make his next move. What if Rinok decides to go after more than just spirits who manifest in this world?"

"You mean crossing the bridge?" Tamiyo asked. "Brock that's impossible with the Twin Kami guarding the veil between the spirit and mortal realms."

"Then destroy the bridge. I wouldn't put it past him. A fine accomplishment it would be, too, killing spirits. Beings that, by definition, are beyond death." Brock began pacing in the small room. His robes, a more loosely fitting fashion than Narset's own, swished around him. He stopped in one corner and started picking at an embroidered dragon on one sleeve.

"I'm sure that's a good idea, but how could he know a way to even get them into our world where he could hurt them?" Tamiyo asked.

"I don't know, but he's got Vilhelm with him, so that's got to add up to something," Brock spat.

"They have arrows," Kyari said, "some sort of arrow with a slip of paper around them that Rhyne used to banish a spirit protecting Okina."

"Where could they find such things? From priests or monks? Prayer slips are sometimes used to banish demons, but using them on benevolent spirits? Who does that?" Tamiyo put her hands to her temples.

"I've been telling you, Tamiyo," Brock said, "these are the kind of people that don't care about what they do, so long as they get to do what they want. They're evil. All of them."

"And this informant Kyari told me about is evil as well?" Tamiyo raised one eyebrow.

"Especially her." Brock crossed his arms. "Absolutely, unequivocally evil."

"Tamiyo and I aren't so sure," Narset said.

Marthel sat back and watched the exchange with interest. Brock's rivalry with Ashleigh was clouding his judgment. What did her motivations matter, as long as they were getting useful information? Kyari said the other woman wasn't lying, and Marthel wasn't inclined to disbelieve the elf. Even if Ashleigh had participated in less than savory activities in the past, including various incidents that involved Marthel, there was dark and light in everyone. Marthel had long lived by that philosophy and his attempts to impart this wisdom to Brock continued to fall flat.

Then again, Marthel thought, this was Brock's home they were dealing with. It was only natural he have a more emotional response to things.

"Brock," Marthel said, "I believe we're all less concerned with who exactly we're fighting and more concerned with how we're going to defeat them. Rinok has an army, you said. Well we're five planeswalkers. The Orochi army likely won't cease their conflict. Would the Soratami go to war with us at the helm? Unlikely. Tamiyo is hardly a military leader, and, tell me if I'm wrong, but even though scholars are respected they're not exactly allowed to take over an army."

"Our best bet is the Emperor," Tamiyo said. "He's the only one we can possibly sway. Brock and I will seek an audience on behalf of the Soratami. Rinok's army is primarily made up of his disillusioned subjects, and they've murdered not only one of my race but our Patron as well. He should see us if he has an honorable bone in his body."

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Emperor Masahiro sat uncomfortably on his throne. Guards lined the tapestry-covered walls, obscuring the depictions of his ancestors. Above the throne, an image of the Twin Kami presided over this audience. The Emperor's palms sweated as he prayed silently and fervently for guidance.

The two people before him dressed in the manner of the Soratami. One was, in fact, a moonfolk woman with pale skin and long ears draped over her shoulders. Her blue robes stood out against the reds and golds of the throne room. Her eyes seemed to bore into the Emperor and Masahiro fought the urge to squirm in his chair. The second, a human man, wore similar robes. His bald head shone in the lighting of the throne room. Masahiro surmised he must be a wizard of some sort, studying at the academy built after the Kami War and the destruction of Minamo.

"State your business, Soratami," Masahiro said, hoping his voice held the authority he'd tried to put into it.

The Soratami woman arched one eyebrow for a moment before returning to her unreadable expression. "Your Majesty, I come before you on behalf of my people and the years of peace between us that we've enjoyed. I am Tamiyo, and my companion is my adopted son, Baraq. As I am sure Your Grace is aware, there is a man gathering an army for an unknown purpose. This man has not only attacked villages and shrines, but has gone so far as to visit his violence upon the spirits. In addition to an employee of mine, he has attacked and murdered the Patron of the Moon as well as other spirits. We can only ask that, as Emperor, you use your power and influence to quash this army and whatever cause it purports to serve."

"I will take your concerns into consideration, Tamiyo of the Soratami," Masahiro said. "I thank you for your dedication to peace between our peoples and value your visit today. You are dismissed."

The man, Baraq, clenched his fists. Tamiyo rested one of her hands on his as they turned to leave. She leaned over and whispered something and he seemed to calm down a bit.

Masahiro turned to one of the guards. "Fetch General Yamamori. He and I have much to discuss."

The Emperor retired to his study to wait for the General.

"You asked to see me, Your Majesty?" General Yamamori bowed before his Emperor.

"What progress have you made on dealing with this Rinok character and his army?"

"We have established surveillance on their movements and security around towns and shrines he is likely to assault." The General replied.

"I just held an audience with a Soratami woman and her son, a young wizard by the look of him. They claim that this man's forces have succeeded in killing one of the Kami, the Patron of the Moon." Masahiro said. "You haven't heard any corroborating evidence, have you?"

"We've been given some indication that Rinok's been targeting Kami, but establishing what is true and what is rumor or propaganda has proved difficult." The General clasped his hands behind his back and attempted to hide the condescension in his gaze. The Emperor didn't understand the ways of the world yet, of that Yamamori was certain.

"I see no reason to doubt these claims. Not only is this man dividing my people, he has chosen to attack our revered Kami. Tomorrow you and I will go to the Shrine of the Holy Sisters and I will seek their wisdom. You are dismissed."

General Yamamori felt a twinge of pride for the young boy he had watched grow into a man. Perhaps Masahiro had was it took to be an Emperor after all.

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"I can't believe he treated us that way, Tamiyo," Brock said as they exited the imperial palace. "He just dismissed us like it was nothing. Of all the spineless-"

"Baraq, language. We are still in the imperial city. You have to watch what you say. Slighting the emperor is taken very seriously here." Tamiyo kept walking, not looking back. "We will see what comes of this in due time. In the meantime, we must return to Ottawara."

"I still think it was disrespectful to treat a dignitary in such a manner."

"I know, son. I believe his conduct was less than hospitable as well. However, he is the Emperor and we are in his domain."

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The Shrine of the Holy Sisters resides on the edge of the Craters of Araba. It serves as both a place of worship and remembrance of the tragedy of the Kami War in hopes it would never be repeated. Arches mark the path to the heart of the shrine, a modest wooden temple with a rock garden tended by a handful of female monks.

About an hour prior to Emperor Masahiro's arrival, two other men had entered the temple for a very different purpose. They concealed themselves in the house of worship where an image of the Holy Sisters is housed. Their target, however, was not the Emperor.

Rinok and Rhyne positioned themselves on opposite sides of the room, hidden in the shadows behind various tapestries and scrolls with bows at the ready. Each had his target, and in order for their plan to work they had to fire at exactly the same moment.

Emperor Masahiro and General Yamamori entered the shrine, bare-headed and barefoot before the Holy Sisters. Incense provided by the monks filled the room once lit by the Emperor. He and the General both knelt before the shrine, bowing deeply.

Emperor Masahiro began the prayers. "Oh Holy Sisters, Twin Kami who preserve the balance between mortal and spirit realms, we seek your guidance. I, Kuromizu Masahiro, kneel before you as your vassal in the mortal realm."

"It's been a while, Emperor," two voices said in unison. Rinok and Rhyne could just make out the silhouette of two humanoid shapes. As they began to solidify, it became incredibly clear which sister was which. They stood on opposite sides from how they'd been depicted. For a moment Rinok felt a twinge of anxiety. How could this work now? Shooting across each other wasn't part of the plan and opened them up to failure. They each only had one shot, one chance to get this right.

"Your prayers have a new fervor, one fueled by fear for your people and country," the Twin Kami said. "These we shall answer. Tell us your concern and we will see what guidance we can give."

"Of course, Princesses." Masahiro took a deep breath. "A man has been amassing an army, sowing chaos and killing Kami. How should my generals and I proceed?"

"We've felt the repercussions of this man's actions," Michiko and Kyodai replied. "What lies in your heart, Kuromizu Masahiro? How do you believe is the best way to proceed?"

Masahiro hadn't once thought of what he wanted to do. His youth forced him to rely on his advisors, generals, and the Kami. How would he know what to do in such a situation. He glanced over to General Yamamori, hoping to glean some sort of answer from the experienced older man.

"No, we want to hear what you think, Kuromizu Masahiro. Not what others tell you think."

It was at that moment Rinok and Rhyne let their arrows wrapped in prayer slips fly. The sisters cried out, reaching for each other as Kyodai faded into the spirit realm and Michiko was rooted squarely in the mortal realm, unable to escape. For countless years they had been together protecting Kamigawa from countless threats. Now that each was alone, she felt fear for the first time in a millennium.

Kyodai felt herself rocketed backwards, hands still reaching for her sister, only they weren't true hands anymore. Without Michiko to stabilize her form she regressed to little more than a floating, scaly eye mask with ribbons for appendages and sparkling stars floating around her. There had to be someone somewhere in this world that could help her save her sister from whatever machinations their assailants had in mind. That would have to wait, however, since the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms remained tightly shut to her even though the sisters were separated. It would remain that way as long as they both lived, only permitting short visits to the other side.

As long as they both lived. Kyodai realized that of the two she still carried their divinity within herself. Alone in the mortal realm, Michiko was vulnerable and mortal as the day they had met. She had to get back, but those damned arrows! They'd been enchanted somehow, they had to have been. One to keep Michiko in the mortal realm and one to send Kyodai back to the spirit realm. Once she was able to break through again, where would she go? She couldn't go to Masahiro. The emperor might have orchestrated the attack himself, or he might have been a pawn. Either way, she couldn't risk relying on him. There had been an outpouring of prayer from both the Soratami and a pair of Orochi sisters. Perhaps someone among their ranks would be better suited to aid Kyodai in saving Michiko.

"Kyodai!" Michiko cried as her sister vanished from her sight. She felt weakened. Tears flowed freely down her face as the excruciating pain of losing Kyodai set in. She turned to the emperor, awestruck and still prostrate before her. "What have you done!?" She demanded of him.

"He, my Lady, has done nothing," Rinok said, strolling out from the shadows. Rhyne remained hidded, another arrow trained on the emperor. "It was I who freed you from the grasp of the spirits."

Rhyne rolled his eyes. Was Rinok really going to try to win over Michiko to their cause?

"I hardly believe I am freed of anything, Rinok," she spat his name. "I remember the first time you tried stirring up trouble here. My sister and I banished you from this world. How did you return?"

"I have my ways," Rinok said. He then turned to the emperor. "You, young Emperor, may leave along with your companion. Spread the word of how I, Rinok, broke apart the Twin Kami and swayed Princess Michiko to my side. By the time I am done speaking to her, she will join those following me who wish eternal war on the Kami."

"You seem awfully confident about that," Rhyne muttered under his breath.

Masahiro and General Yamamori hastily stood and ran out the door. The monks outside huddled together, listening intently to what the emperor said.

"Try as you might, the bond between my sister and I cannot be severed so easily," Michiko said.

"I think as long as we have enough arrows we can achieve what we wish," Rinok replied. He gripped her by the arm, escorting her out of the shrine to where his horse was waiting. Rhyne skulked along behind them, ensuring they were not followed by the terrified monks and emperor.

"I have a solution," Masahiro whispered to General Yamamori. "Full assault, involving all allies. We rescue Princess Michiko at all costs. I want messengers sent to every leader with replies delivered directly to me as soon as is possible. We'll wage a full on war. No prisoners. Only annihilation."


	14. Chapter 14

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter Thirteen: Two Princesses

"They WHAT?" Satsuki raged at Kyari, completely taken aback by her friend's news. The typically calmer of the two royal Orochi sisters gritted her teeth, biting back any more words until she heard an explanation.

Sakae leaned back against the wall, attempting to suppress the inappropriate amusement she felt upon seeing her older sister's anger. An attack on the Kami was serious, but an attack on the Holy Sisters meant that the barrier between worlds would begin to grow thin. Angry spirits would surely seek revenge. A second Kami War was upon them.

"I'm not sure how else to explain it," Kyari said. Her own emotions had cycled through despair, fury, and a profound desire for vengeance before settling into an icy ball in her stomach where they churned like some witch's potion. This wasn't her world, but a crime committed against such an integral part of its functioning filled her with the same level of anger that an attack on her own home would. As of now, Kamigawa had experienced several such crimes.

"You there, monk, what say you?" Satsuki turned to Brock, who had insisted on accompanying Kyari.

"What do I think?" Brock asked. "I think it's obvious that we have to retrieve the Princess and bring Michiko and Kyodai back together, unless we can find another mortal to bond with her and restore the barrier that way."

"What do you mean, Brock?" Kyari asked.

"Well, if Rinok does the worst we'll need a backup plan."

"I doubt that, son," Tamiyo said. She joined them in their latest journey to the Jukai as a Soratami ambassador. "If eternal war is Rinok's goal, he'll want to give them something to fight for. Or else everyone will just give up."

"Are you sure about that, Tamiyo?" Brock asked. "I think killing Michiko would play into his plans even more."

"Regardless of whether or not he means harm to the Holy Princess," Sakae said, "we must retrieve her for the safety of our world."

"We need a contingency for if that fails. Someone has to find Kyodai anyway, or finding Michiko is worthless," Brock said.

"Then that shall be your job," Tamiyo said.

"But how am I supposed to find a Kami?"

"You could start by praying," Satsuki offered.

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How long had it been since he'd prayed to the Kami? Brock didn't even remember how to go about it anymore. Praying had been replaced with meditation. They were kind of the same thing, weren't they? When one got right down to it, anyway.

He sat outside under one of the giant cedar trees surrounding the ruined Okina Temple complex, legs crossed in the lotus position. He pressed his palms together and began to breathe deeply. Sunlight filtering through the trees created a scattered pattern of heat across his scalp. A gentle breeze ruffled his robes and his smooth prayer beads rolled up and down with every steady, perfectly measured breath.

Brock tried clearing his mind. He dismissed all thought, numbed himself to the outside, and believed for all the world that he was a receptacle for the multiverse.

You know that's not going to work, friend.

The voice in his mind sounded almost like Marthel's, but the dark-skinned planeswalker remained behind in Ottawara where Genku was helping to fit him with a suit of armor, complete with a mask. The humans of Kamigawa didn't have skin like his, and Brock feared that people might mistake Marthel for some sort of Oni.

Brock began to wonder what could possibly work. How was he supposed to attract the attention of a Kami, and not just any Kami either. Kyodai and Michiko had taken the place of O Kagachi, the Great Old Kami himself. Their serpentine father had been the manifestation of the barrier between the mortal and spirit realms, a role the Holy Sisters embraced fully upon his demise during the Kami War.

Kyari watched from the ruined temples. Brock had been raised in the world of the Ojutai, a world of rules and hidden knowledge. The greater good trumped what was right. She personally couldn't understand it, but she did understand that it had been those rules that made Brock comfortable. Unlike his childhood among the Soratami, the young human boy understood exactly what he was among the monks of Tarkir and their dragonlord.

The elf woman knelt on the ground, smiling to herself as she noticed the grass and dirt stains on her breeches. When was the last time she'd actually washed these? Would the hydra even remember her if she didn't smell like the dirt of a thousand worlds? She shook her head, thwacking herself in the face with her long braid. Through one normal and one watering eye, she sought out the leylines she'd restored. Kyari reached down into the flow of mana, inspecting how it curved and curled around Brock's still form.

She felt the hardened, disciplined surface, but underneath rippled and quivered like a pool being disturbed by pebbles.

"I wouldn't have to do this if you'd just talk to me," she sighed to herself.

Could Kyari help him? Should she even? Finding a Kami through prayer out in the wild seemed like a difficult task. The abundance of shrines scattered across the many kingdoms of Kamigawa provided the spirits with anchor points where they could access the mortal world and their adherents. Maybe Tamiyo believed it would be easier now that the Holy Sisters were separated. Kyari wasn't sure. This wasn't her world.

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Emperor Masahiro paced in his study, waiting impatiently for his generals to assemble. The young emperor had abandoned his pastel robes for his father's traditional parade armor, an ornate set painted with dark reds and intricate detailing on his chestplate and helmet. The fit wasn't perfect, but would do to command the respect of his elders and inspire their troops. Of course there was no way he could actually join them on the battlefield, but if he didn't accompany the bulk of his forces to face this new threat then he had no honor and did not deserve his place as emperor.

Among those waiting outside the emperor's study for their cue to enter were Soft-Ear of the Kitsune and Souta, First Son of the line of Seshiro and military leader of the Orochi.

"I see you have abandoned your campaign against the Nezumi," Soft-Ear said, fastidiously cleaning his whiskers. His seven tails twitched independently of each other.

"When my sisters relayed to me what had happened, I believed our grievance with the ratfolk could wait." Souta crossed his four arms, one hand settling on the hilt of his sword. "Who do you represent in this, monk?"

"I speak for Okina," Soft-Ear said. "The remaining monks, including the High Shaman Sakae, believed it best if I were the one to address the human emperor. Kitsune have long enjoyed the respect of the noble houses."

The doors opened and the human generals, followed by Soft-Ear and Souta, filed inside in a single line. They spread out along the walls and bowed deeply to the emperor.

"Let us begin," Masahiro said. He remained standing like the men before him rather than sitting in his chair. "Our primary objective is the recovery of Princess Michiko. This Rinok and his militia can be dealt with at a later time. They operate primarily with stealthy attacks and a highly mobile force that moves camp frequently. For these reasons, I have invited Prince Souta of the Orochi to act as an advisor. The Orochi are familiar with the utilization of guerilla tactics and understand best how to combat them. The restoration of Michiko and Kyodai as a pair is of paramount importance. The Kitsune Soft-Ear is my spiritual advisor on this matter. I expect them to be treated with the same respect you give each other."

There was silence.

"Does anyone have any good ideas?" Masahiro asked, rather impatiently.

He sighed inwardly. It seemed this was going to be a long meeting.

"General Yamamori?" Masahiro prompted. "Anything from your mothriders?"

"Aerial surveillance supports their swiftness in both attack and movement." Yamamori shifted uncomfortably. "Your Highness, permission to speak freely?"

"Permission granted," Masahiro said curtly.

"I firmly believe, and I'm sure that most of my peers do as well, that we are moving rather quickly. It's been less than two weeks since the attack on the Holy Sisters. Are we sure the best way to proceed is a full on assault?"

"If a nation cannot protect that which is most precious to their people, then for what good is the existence of the nation? Centuries and centuries ago, a daimyo put his interests before the peoples' and our world was plunged into a war that seemed to never end. Today we have a chance to prevent another such occurrence. Will any of you say that haste is not vital?" Masahiro locked eyes with each of the generals. He needn't cow the Orochi prince or the Kitsune monk, of their support he was certain.

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"Ensure the princess does not leave her quarters," Rinok barked at Ashleigh before storming through the camp back to his own tent. Ashleigh waited for him to turn a corner and be out of sight before entering the tent herself.

Princess Michiko didn't look royal. She wore a simple white robe, a kimono if she remembered the term from various people's memories correctly, and had her black hair back in a long horsetail. Miraculously her garments weren't wrinkled or soiled after her long ride with Rinok, but perhaps that was standard for being a god on this plane.

"Hello," she said to the princess, who looked up at her with a startled expression. Used to being among the shorter members of her group, Ashleigh was pleasantly surprised that she had several inches on a god.

"You have hair like an Orochi," Michiko commented.

"I suppose you're right," she replied, running a hand through her deep auburn curls.

"Are you here to guard me or to hurt me?"

"Just here to make sure you don't disappear."

"You don't seem like the others," Michiko said. "Like Rinok or that dog of a man that follows him. Or the masked one that reeks of death."

Ashleigh cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean, not like them?"

"You are someone my sister and I would allow to enter this world."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew some things about me, Princess." Ashleigh looked off to the side, remembering Ellie's twitching corpse bound with that of her steed's by tentacly corruption that was unmistakably eldrazi in origin. She thought of her many harebrained schemes to blow up entire planes. She never got around to going through with them, of course, but she'd tried.

"Look me in the eye, daughter of Innistrad," Michiko commanded. It was all Ashleigh could do to maintain a steady gaze doing so. Her mind flooded with a louder version of the singing that she heard ever since coming to this plane.

"Hasty, capricious, and more than a little selfish, but not evil. You've known love, more than a fair amount of loss, and even now I can sense your true intentions. You mean to betray all of them."

"I just want something they took from me," Ashleigh said, crossing her arms. Who did this girl think she was, anyway? She'd never even met Ashleigh and all of a sudden she knew the planeswalker's life story and plans.

"And you can't take the risk of working with me, I understand." Michiko smiled. "You needn't explain yourself. I know already what they tell you."

"They?"

"The Kami. You hear them, I know it."

"Not possible," Ashleigh said, even though she knew she was lying. "Liliana said I hear the living, not the dead."

"The Kami here are alive. They aren't ghosts or restless spirits. They're the embodiment of a specific thing. Reach out and touch me. I'm solid, just as you are."

"Just don't go anywhere, okay?" Ashleigh turned and left the tent in a huff.

"I won't. And the armored one won't know about this discussion either."

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"Nothing. I extracted nothing from her in our interrogation session," Vilhelm growled through his mask. "Rinok, can I please take this damned thing off? It's just us three. Nobody else is in here."

"Fine," Rinok said, waving his hand dismissively. Vilhelm removed his helmet, exposing his pale hair and gray skin.

"Why couldn't we have chosen a plane with vampires?" Vilhelm muttered to himself. He mentally answered his own question, because you have to go along with Rinok or he'll suspect something, that's why.

Rhyne stood in the corner, as always, glowering at the other men. "I still say that if you let me try we'd know all we needed to know about breaching the barrier and taking our war to the next level."

"By the spark of the Immersturm, Rhyne," Rinok groaned in exasperation, dropping the slightly curved sword, a katana he'd heard it called, that he was toying with. "I don't want you to traumatize the girl. I want information. She's still of use to us."

"Well we won't get any information my way," Vilhelm said. "She's keeping me out somehow. I don't understand the magic she's using to do it."

"Maybe it's the other spirit," Rhyne suggested.

"Impossible. She shouldn't be able to manifest without the mortal one as an anchor," Vilhelm replied.

"You don't seem very confident about that," Rinok commented.

For a moment Vilhelm saw red. How many times had Mikhail uttered those same words to him?

He quickly pulled himself back together. Lashing out wasn't going to keep Rinok and Rhyne in line with his plan.

"Based on evidence," Vilhelm explained, "both from religious texts and the dogma in these simpletons' heads, it should not be possible. Kyodai originated as a piece of a spirit, a fragment stolen from an old god that perished. She's not her own being, requiring a mutual relationship with Michiko to maintain her form and a presence in the mortal realm."

"Sure," Rhyne said. His personal opinion held that the prayer slips wouldn't keep the spirit one out for long enough to actually get close to what they wanted to do. Vilhelm kept holding them back, insisting on patience and planning. Rinok was growing complacent as well. Their army had grown to several thousand strong, but efforts to keep growing had stagnated. If Rhyne had learned one thing, it was that complacency meant death.

0000000

Night had fallen. Brock remained in his position under the cedar tree, unmoving and almost unbreathing.

He groaned, slumping back against the tree. "What do I have to do to get your attention?"

"Well asking instead of just waiting might be a good idea."

A pair of eyes with vertical, serpent-like pupils faded into view, surrounded by white scales in a shape that resembled masks worn to balls on Fiora. Ribbonlike appendages fluttered around the eyes as rudimentary arms and stars swirled and twinkled in changing patterns.

"Are you Kyodai?"

"Unfortunately, yes. This is my form without my sister. It has been almost a fortnight since I saw her and no matter how I try, I can't find her. Someone hides her from me, but first and foremost I am a Kami. I will answer prayers. You have a desire to speak to me?"

"I'm just glad I found you." Brock relaxed a bit. "We want to find Michiko as well, assuming that she hasn't been killed."

"I believe I would know if my sister was no longer alive."

"I know," Brock said. Then a thought occurred to him. "Kyodai, listen, if we can't find Michiko, or you can't bond with her again, what if you found someone else?"

"You suggest I bond with you?"

"Not really, no," Brock sputtered. She divined his thoughts that quickly? "I mean, if you did I'd be honored, but I wasn't suggesting you and I…"

"You seek immortality and the power to shape the world in your image, bend it to your rules, to protect all worlds from outside threats. You seek total segregation of the multiverse when this is not how it is meant to be, planeswalker. Your existence alone is proof of that. While your intention is noble, be careful you don't fall down a path of darkness. One man alone cannot control everything no matter how hard he tries."

"That's not what I-"

"Then why try to join with a Kami? For what other reason would you have be abandon my sister?"

"To protect the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms."

"Some barriers are meant to be porous as cheesecloth. Some are meant to be broken like a chain of servitude. Learn to decipher which barriers these are, and I may reconsider if my sister is lost to me."

Just like that, she was gone.

"I will return to your sight when you have need of me, Baraq, son of Tamiyo. Until then, be careful what you toss over your shoulder."

"Dammit, what's that supposed to mean?" Brock asked, throwing his head back and cracking it against the tree. "Ow…" He leaned forward, cradling his bruised scalp.


	15. Chapter 16

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 14: Lessons

Brock tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. His childhood room, complete with wooden toys Genku had carved for the boy during one of his creative phases, brought him little peace. For obvious reasons the bed was too small for him, so he slept on a mat on the floor. It had been the preferred sleeping arrangement of the Ojutai in order to pack as many initiate monks into their dormitory as possible. Brock admired the efficiency to the point the lack of comfort wasn't an issue, especially while surrounded by people he felt could really understand him. On numerous nights since his departure from the monastery after Master Narset's exile he'd slept peacefully while alone, so that wasn't what troubled him.

"Kyodai?" Brock whispered, unsure if the spirit had meant what she said about being nearby. "Are you there?"

The scaled mask that had become the physical manifestation of the divine half of the Holy Sisters wavered into view. She seemed to rock back and forth in the air, ribbons trailing below her and the stars surrounding her casting a cold, wavering light.

"What is it you need of me, Baraq, son of Tamiyo?"

"Could you not call me that? It's Brock."

"What is it you need, Brock, son of Tamiyo?" the spirit responded, annoyance in her voice. Brock thought he saw her roll her eyes.

"If you're going to act like that while your sister is in danger, then maybe I don't want your help," Brock said, rolling over.

"Apologies. It merely irks me when people use false names."

"Well Brock is as close a name as I've got. Tamiyo isn't my mother. She just picked me up one day. I don't know who my real parents are or what my real name is."

"Your parents died of a plague shortly after you were born. Tamiyo and a small delegation of Soratami worked tirelessly to save the village but nothing they did worked. The disease seemed immune to all forms of healing magic. I remember their fervent prayers clearly, but there is little my sister and I can do to affect the mortal realm for all the reverence we are given. Your birth mother held you one last time, then gave you to Tamiyo and begged her to take you somewhere where the plague couldn't hurt you. You were eight days old, the day you would have been named. Don't ask me why she never told you the truth, her reasons are hers alone." Kyodai flickered out of existence to reappear in front of Brock's face. "Your sleeplessness will not be cured by this information, Brock. That can only be gained by acceptance of who you are and what your limitations are."

"Oh, I know who I am, Kyodai. I know exactly who I am, and I don't need you to tell me that," Brock spat.

"Your disrespect of the spirits is trying, Brock, but you are the one who asked me here. I have provided what you needed. While I understand your gratitude is not guaranteed, I am frustrated."

"Maybe you don't deserve to be a god, then."

Kyodai rolled her eyes once again. "And you would believe yourself to be better suited to protecting this plane than I? Kyodai, born of O-Kagachi? Guarding the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms is woven through my very being. I am not, however, an omnipotent wish-granter, as I have heard gods of other worlds to be. That is not the purpose of the Kami. We do not give the people who live here what they want, but rather what they need. It seems, however, that the war did not enlighten humanity."

Brock groaned and jumped up off of the floor. Somewhere in this house was a pot he could use to brew some tea. Maybe that would help him sleep. Kyodai faded from view, but she did not stray far from Brock's side as he slid his door open and tiptoed down the hallways of Tamiyo's home to the room that could be best described as a kitchen. Every common room in the house had at least one shelf piled high with scrolls, so it seemed the whole house doubled as a library. The kitchen had three such shelves, making it a tight space to navigate.

Tamiyo glided across the floor with practiced silent grace. Her ears perked up slightly when she heard the noise of someone knocking around in the kitchen. She slowed her steps, peering around the corner before entering the room. Brock held a teapot in one hand, engulfing it in flames.

"Your mastery is impressive, son," Tamiyo said quietly, attempting not to scare him.

She failed. His head snapped in her direction and his grip on the pot faltered, spilling hot water onto the ground mere inches from his bare feet.

Tamiyo's white hand flew to her mouth. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Your scrolls are fine," Brock said, returning his focus to the teapot. Several canisters sat open in front of him, each containing a blend of tea Genku had specially crafted for his wife's various moods.

"I'm more concerned about you, Baraq," Tamiyo said. She moved to stand closer to him, inspecting the canisters of tea while she spoke. "When you were young and wouldn't sleep, I'd bring you in here and make myself a cup of tea. This blend right here," she pointed to the third canister from the left, "something about the smell always helped you drift off." A nostalgic smile turned the corners of her mouth upward.

"Sure. We'll go with this one. There should be enough water in here left for two cups." Brock gingerly lifted the lid off the teapot in his hand as Tamiyo spooned in the tea leaves.

"Tell me about how you learned pyromancy. I know the Ojutai don't practice it," Tamiyo said.

"After I left the Ojutai, around the time Master Narset left, I found myself on a plane called Regatha, at a place called Keral Keep. They study pyromancy there, most of their teachings come from a planeswalker they call Jaya, and I was able to learn. It's nothing compared to what someone with natural born talent can do, but it's enough to get me out of trouble." Brock didn't make eye contact with Tamiyo.

"Or get you into trouble from what your companions have told me," she replied, concern in her voice. "I suppose part of me might have known you had the potential to learn such magic. In the language of the plane your name comes from, 'baraq' means 'firebolt'."

I'm just learning all sorts of things today, Brock thought. He tried his best to keep a neutral expression.

"I know you probably don't want to be hearing this from me," Tamiyo said, looking down and to the side, "but I am proud of you and I'm proud that I could, at least for a little while, call you my son. Kyari tells me of your steadfastness and Marthel of you compassion for the plights of others. It's your goal to travel the planes righting wrongs. I may not agree with it, but I also might be a coward. I had the chance to join a group of planeswalkers with a similar mission and declined. Seeing what you've become, a young man with such powerful convictions and a strong sense of right and wrong, makes me wonder if I made the wrong choice when Jace Beleren offered a place on the Gatewatch to me."

"Those who do nothing in the face of oppression have chosen the side of the oppressor," Brock said matter of factly. "I heard that somewhere, but I can't remember where or who from."

"It seems like something Kyari would say," Tamiyo mused. "I think the tea is ready. That blend doesn't have to steep long."

Brock extinguished his flames and they poured the tea into two small cups.

"To learning lessons," Tamiyo said, imitating the toasting gesture she'd seen on other planes.

"To learning lessons," Brock said, mirroring her gesture. Kyodai appeared behind Tamiyo's shoulder and winked at Brock before fading from view once again.

They drank their tea in silence, but it was not the cold silence with which they'd treated each other in the past. This silence comforted, rather than separated. Tamiyo's mind drifted to the past when she carried a fussy human infant on her hip down the halls of her home to the kitchen so his cries wouldn't wake her husband to brew this exact tea. The same tea she drank in gallons after her oldest son disappeared and she'd scoured the plane looking for him. How old was he? Twelve? Maybe thirteen? She'd missed over half his life by now, throwing herself into an impartial view of every situation to avoid the pain she'd experienced after losing her first child.

A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away quickly before Brock could see.

000000

"The hell is this?" Rinok asked, tossing a letter down on his strategy table for Vilhelm, Rhyne, and Ashleigh to see.

"It appears to be a message from Emperor Masahiro Kuromizu requesting your surrender and punishment for war crimes," Ashleigh said after a cursory glance at the paper.

"I know that, dammit," Rinok said, "but he's asking for my surrender? Not to meet on the field of battle? What kind of man is this Emperor Masahiro that he's so cowardly he won't face me in combat?"

"A smart one, actually," Vilhelm said. "The empire does have a sizeable army, one that we can't hope to beat in terms of discipline and organization. We have a zealous band of farmers, raiders, criminals, overall laypeople rather than a specialized fighting force. As far as an empire is concerned, the best resolution never ends in bloodshed, especially when the enemy is their own subjects. He's counting on you being intelligent rather than suicidal, which a battle would be at this point."

"One of my men could take down at least ten imperial soldiers," Rinok said, puffing out his chest.

"We have ferocity," Rhyne said. "That should be enough. It's worked so far."

"Not everyone has your unique abilities, Rhyne. And I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop using the men as fuel for your shamanic arts. Can't you rely on beasts?" Rinok asked.

"I can, but where's the fun in that? Animals don't have the same terror of death." Rhyne shrugged.

"Why do I ever think I can reason with you," Rinok mumbled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was feeling another headache coming.

Vilhelm kept his eyes fixated on Rinok, but addressed Ashleigh. "How has our prisoner been doing?"

"Fine. She just kind of sits there praying." Ashleigh crossed her arms, putting on her most whiney, annoying voice. "Guarding her is boring. Why do I have to be the one to do it?"

"Simple," Vilhelm said, "you're the most powerful woman in this camp. The only other woman besides the princess. Our forces are made up of men who have an ax to grind with the Kami of this plane as well. You are a powerful deterrent to them and something less threatening to the princess than one of us. As much as we stress it to the men, some of them can't be counted upon to do the honorable thing."

Ashleigh smirked inwardly while maintaining her outward appearance of frustration. With Michiko's help, Vilhelm was having a harder time reading her. She and the princess were hatching their own plan that would hopefully result in both Michiko's escape and Ashleigh's possession of the portal sphere. Vilhelm kept it on his person at all times. The only way it could be retrieved would be if a battle came about and Vilhelm had to fight.

Lucky for the princess and her unlikely ally, Rinok was a man whose hubris was only matched by his bloodlust.

"I want a reply sent," Rinok said, "and I want it to say that the only way my troops will surrender is over their dead bodies. He will face me on the battlefield if he wishes to see an end to my campaign."

"That's really not smart," Vilhelm said. "I've received word that the Orochi are falling back in their conflicts with the Nezumi and Akki. We don't know what has prompted this or where they're going, but an alliance between humans and the Orochi would be devastating for us."

"Then we just hire mercenaries," Rhyne said.

Rinok didn't like the idea of mercenaries in his army. They lacked honor, fighting only for themselves and their own gains. It reminded him too much of the Rakdos, lacking a unified cause other than bloodshed for its own sake. Yes, they'd had their Lord of Riots, but a riot by itself meant nothing and he was better than that. His armies were better than that.

Then again, one had to do what was necessary to ensure that Kamigawa erupted in glorious eternal warfare.

"As much as it pains me to say it," Rinok said, "Rhyne is right. We need to double our recruitment efforts by whatever means necessary. I will see war once again come to this world, and this time it shall reign eternal. Meeting adjourned."

Ashleigh returned to her post outside Michiko's tent. "Well, princess," she boasted loudly, taking on a derisive tone, "it seems your precious emperor is going to have to go to war after all. He actually thought we might surrender to him! Ha!"

Inside the tent, Michiko smiled conspiratorially. As much as the prospect of the loss of life pained her, only the chaos of a battle would provide the cover she needed to escape. With all eyes fixated elsewhere, she had a chance of reuniting with Kyodai and restoring the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms before it was too late. Spirits could roam the mortal realm, certainly, but the spirit realm held many dangers for mortals, the least of which were malevolent Kami still seeking revenge for the great war.

00000000

"Sakae," Souta said, sheathing his swords as he prepared to leave once again for the human capitol, "contact your human friend, Kyari. The rebels refuse to surrender to the superior military might of the human empire. Emperor Masahiro is calling us to war."

Sakae scrambled to stand up, her four arms sticking out at odd angles as she hauled herself off of the ground. The High Shaman of the Orochi had known that there was a possibility of the rebels refusing surrender, but she'd never thought it would actually happen. "Right away, brother."

She ran down the twisting, naturally formed hallways of their villa, screeching to a halt outside her older sister's door. Sakae knocked quietly, unaware if her sister's consort had stayed the previous night.

"You may come in," came Satsuki's even voice.

"Satsuki, it's happening. This Rinok that Kyari told us about refused surrender. When she told me he was proud I never thought he'd be so stupid!"

"Sakae," her sister sighed, "the most dangerous thing in the world is the pride of a man. Surely we've all learned that by now. It was Lord Konda's pride that sparked the Kami War, our brother's pride that prompted him to attack the Nezumi without a proper investigation, this man's pride that resulted in him challenging not only the human emperor but the Kami as well. They mistake pride for honor and do terrible things in its name. That is not honorable."

"I appreciate the wisdom, Satsuki, but I think there's more at hand here. We've got to tell Kyari so she can tell the Soratami. She's got connections with one of them, a woman name Tamiyo, I think." Sakae rubbed her temples. "I'm pretty sure that's her name. An alliance between all three races would prove unstoppable by these rebels. Then we could rescue Michiko and restore her to Kyodai."

"Except Kyodai isn't here in the Jukai," Satsuki said. "I've prayed all I can. If she remains on our side of the barrier, then she has chosen another mortal to serve as her host. Possibly that young man Kyari brought with her the last time we saw her. He did pray in search of her, after all. While I don't understand her choice if that is the one she made, Kyodai is a Kami, born of the great old Kami O-Kagachi. Perhaps she sees things we mortals cannot understand."

"I can't help but think you should have been High Shaman instead of me," Sakae sighed.

"My duties lay elsewhere, dear sister, and the life of celibacy wasn't something I think I could endure."

Sakae rolled her eyes. "It's honestly not that bad."

"We are very different people, sister," Satsuki replied with a smile.

0000000

A small bird with a scroll tied around its leg waited patiently for Kyari outside of Tamiyo's home. When the elf emerged for some much needed sunlight thanks to the chill of the high altitude, it hopped delicately into her hand and twittered cheerily.

"Well hello there," Kyari greeted the small creature with a smile. She gently removed the tiny scroll from its leg and watched it flutter back to the world below. Upon unrolling the scroll with only her thumbs and forefingers, she squinted to make out the handwriting due to its small size. How the Orochi were capable of creating such tiny messages Kyari couldn't say, especially since the primary language of this plane was some sort of symbolic pictographs referred to as kanji.

She sighed. "I'm going to need a translator. I wonder if Tamiyo is awake."

She found Brock first. "Brock, can you read kanji?"

"Um…" It had been years since Brock had needed to actually read anything written in kanji. Tamiyo and the rest of the Soratami utilized a phonetic alphabet due to how easy it was to learn and read, but the school Tamiyo had sent him to in his youth did teach its children how to read the human's written language. "I can try." He took the scroll from Kyari, careful not to rip it, and stared at the words intently.

"We can ask Tamiyo or Genku if you don't remember how. You haven't been here in what, ten years?" Kyari suggested.

"Fourteen," Brock corrected her. "I'm pretty sure this message is from your Orochi friends and says that Rinok has rejected an opportunity to surrender from the emperor. He intends war."

"That is the last thing this plane needs," Marthel said, shuffling sleepily into the room. He yawned widely and pushed his locs out of his face only for them to fall back into their original places. "This is why I always keep these tied back," he grumbled to himself, searching his person for a leather tie of some sort.

"How's that armor coming, buddy?" Brock asked.

"Oh, just fine. I still don't like having my face covered and I think it's kind of clunky, but no worse than what I wore on Bant that one time." Marthel succeeded in tying his hair back.

One of Tamiyo's younger children peered around the corner. "Those aren't snakes, are they? Mama and Mister Cat told us stories about people with snakes for hair."

Marthel burst out laughing while Brock stared in confusion at his younger sibling. "I promise, little one, these aren't snakes. But I could turn you to stone if I wanted to." He lunged playfully and snarled. The child squealed in delight and ran down the hallway with light, quick steps.

"You probably shouldn't encourage them like that," Brock said, returning his attention to the scroll.

"Let them have their fun," Kyari said. "Their world is about to be turned upside down if we can't defeat Rinok and get Michiko and Kyodai reunited. Satsuki explained to me what would happen if the sisters stayed separated for too long. It isn't pretty."

"I get the feeling Satsuki would be a better shaman than her hothead sister," Brock said.

Kyari shoved him. "You're one to talk, Mister I Get So Mad I Catch On Fire."

"That's different. That's righteous fury at injustice," Brock protested.

"Sure it is," Marthel smiled. "You were about to light me up on Fiora, remember that? Over what? Me poking my nose into a tyrannical regime?"

"Brago was better than Marchesa," Brock replied.

"Guys, focus," Kyari said. "We have to tell Tamiyo and Genku about this. If Sakae and Satsuki contacted me, it's because the Soratami need to be involved now. Their patron was killed. Surely they want to join the military force to exact revenge."

"Except not really," Brock said. "This conflict would be considered beneath them."

"Even if it involved rescuing Michiko?" Kyari asked, arching one eyebrow. Her warm brown eyes bored into Brock. Something about his mana was different. A nexus of it seemed to float around him, brushing the edges of his own flow.

"Okay. You have a point. They'd definitely be behind that." Brock turned around and started pacing. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait for Souta to provide his sisters with the relevant military information, which they will then provide to us?" Kyari suggested.

"Or," Marthel said, "we directly join the current military efforts. I'm sure the Orochi and the humans won't say no to a few extra hands."

"Okay," Kyari said, "I like that idea better."

If I had suggested it, Brock thought, she'd say I was being reckless.

He's thinking about you again, Kyari.

Really, Marthel? You're doing this right now?

I always do this. Helps keep everyone honest. You know he likes you, right?

Well of course he does. We're allies.

No. I mean likes you likes you. When are you guys gonna stop this dancing around each other?

Not the time, Marthel.

"You guys are talking about me again, aren't you?" Brock crossed his arms.

"Technically we weren't talking about anyone," Marthel said cheekily.

"You know what he means," Kyari groaned. "I wish you wouldn't do that mid conversation, Marthel. It's rude."

Dude, Brock, she is totally into you.

Marthel, I swear with Kyodai as my witness I will end you.

Ending people isn't going to save my sister, Brock.

Brock, who else is in this conversation?

Um… Marthel, meet Kyodai. Kyodai, this is Marthel.

"You mean you've had Kyodai with you this whole time? How did you manage that?"

"Dude, you said that out loud," Brock informed Marthel.

Kyodai faded into view in the middle of the three planeswalkers. Kyari's jaw dropped so quickly that if she'd been a certain oozy planeswalker it would have landed on the floor with a splat.

"Your Holiness, I apologize if I've done or said anything to offend you," Marthel said quickly, bowing his head and placing a hand over his heart in the same manner with which he greeted the angels on Bant before his spark ignited.

Kyodai giggled musically. "I like this one. You're possibility wrapped in discovery. A fine ally to have."

"So your prayers worked, then," Kyari said. It wasn't a question, obviously, since the proof was floating right in front of her trailing silken ribbons and wreathed with stars.

"Um, yeah… They did."

"I have chosen you as my allies because of your experience and power. Our enemies are three planeswalkers, so I should have three to combat them."

"Four," Brock corrected Kyodai. "Rinok has three others with him: Vilhelm, Rhyne, and Voidcaller."

"I maintain a limited connection with my sister. We have vague senses of each other's surroundings. Among her classified enemies I do not know of a Voidcaller."

"Brock, let's just deal with Ashleigh if she becomes a problem. We know that Rinok, Rhyne, and Vilhelm are definitely behind this," Marthel said.

It seems Brock still has one lesson to be learned, Kyodai thought to herself.


	16. Chapter 15

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 15: Meanwhile on Ravnica

Ravnica's bustling market district looked for all the world like a madman's mosaic. No rhyme or reason dictated the distribution of guild colors throughout the giant courtyard bazaar.

"Sa'Raah, do you mind holding this? I don't think I can manifest another arm," Odom said, passing a box wrapped in brown paper to the elf. He already had three more arms than usual, each extra appendage piled high with supplies for his lab in the Zameck Guild Hall. A handful of those supplies would be absorbed into his oozy form before reentering the new home of the Simic Guild to prevent Zegana and her devotees from confiscating his items of contraband.

"Absolutely, Odom," Sa'Raah said cheerfully, taking the parcel. "I can carry more if you'd like. I think people are starting to stare."

"Nah," Odom brushed her off, "these people know me here. They're probably staring at you."

One of Sa'Raah's hands flew self-consciously to her scaly crest that matched the desert cream color of her armor. Here and there a scale had a rosy or verdant tint. "I was under the impression such body modifications were common on this plane?"

"I mean, kind of. Magical experiments and accidents happen, but that's usually dealing with the Izzet and sometimes the Simic. Even then, Zegana's highly regulated experimentation in her guild to the point where real innovation can't happen anymore." Odom sighed wistfully. "You should have seen us in our heyday, Sa'Raah. Momir was a genius."

"I was unaware that you were that old," Sa'Raah said. She knew Odom had told her bits and pieces about his life before, but until now hadn't put together an accurate timeline of Ravnica's history.

"Well, aging runs a little different here. You've seen Teysa, the Orzhov's leader, right? She's over one hundred."

"Surely the multiverse is a fascinating place," Sa'Raah breathed, sneaking glances at people around her trying to guess their ages.

"Yeah. That's why Kyari and I, and to a lesser extent Lisandra, do what we do whenever we're not busy elsewhere. There's so much to see and explore. Speaking of Lisandra, I wonder what she's up to? I know she said she was from here."

Sa'Raah shrugged as they browsed other stalls. "I'm unsure. I haven't seen her in my travels."

"It's no big deal. Whenever Ash comes back she can probably find her. I've been wanting to pick her brain about a couple of ideas and I don't think Kyari would necessarily approve of them."

Before Sa'Raah could answer, a loud shriek pierced the dull roar of the market district. Every face turned skyward, mouths agape at the sight of a hellkite circling the shops before settling on top of a tower on the perimeter. It let out another shriek, belching a stream of flame as punctuation.

Almost immediately, Azorius justicars and members of the Wojek league poured out of the alleyways to begin evacuation of the populace. Odom and Sa'Raah caught bits and pieces of conversation as people pushed past each other.

"…outside the scheduled migration…"

"…angels will surely save us…"

"…gone feral, they'll have no choice but to put it down…"

Sa'Raah's eyes widened. "Put it down? Odom we have to go back." She grabbed one of his arms and started pushing against the tide of people, dragging the other planeswalker with her.

"Sa'Raah, are you crazy? What are you going to do against a fully grown hellkite? You can't kill it by yourself!" Odom exclaimed. His right eyebrow started smoking slightly and the eye below it jumped between colors.

If you had known me before, Sa'Raah thought, recalling her past as the Broodculler of Jund. She shook her head fervently. "I'm not going to kill it. I'm going to talk to it."

"How? It's not intelligent. It won't understand you."

"All dragons across all planes know their mother tongue. I'm fluent in draconic. It'll work. I promise. Just help me get up there."

Odom shook his head. "You're on your own here. I can't exactly morph myself into a giant slingshot, and last I checked that crest didn't come with wings."

Odom left Sa'Raah, catching a ride on the waves of people still pouring out of the market district and into the relative safety of the area beyond. The various justicars and soldiers began gathering in the center. As of yet, no angels had descended upon the makeshift coliseum.

The last few civilians passed by Sa'Raah, who was staring despondently at the tower upon which the hellkite perched. It was strikingly similar to the ones on Jund, with its spiky crests and spinal ridge. The trick was getting them to overextend their necks with some poor soul acting as the bait and hacking at the soft flesh underneath.

She shook the thoughts from her head, catching sight of a familiar shade of auburn flanked by two white wings.

"Nadia!" Sa'Raah shouted, waving frantically to catch the angel's attention. "Nadia!" Sa'Raah started to run in Nadia's direction.

The angel turned, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline at the sight of Marthel's dragon-girl friend rushing towards her.

"Sa'Raah," Nadia said in surprise. "You should be evacuating with the others. Boros angels will be here any minute to dispatch the beast."

"I know. That's why I need your help. You have to get me up there." Sa'Raah pointed at the tower at the far end of the market.

"I… um… what?" Nadia stammered. Deep in the subconscious of every angel of Bant lay the collective memory of Asha's demise at the claws of the demon dragon Malfegor. Though their archangel's death had long been forgotten, a powerful hatred of dragons persisted in every subsequent generation of angels.

"Please. I need to talk to it. I can get it to leave without anyone getting hurt." Sa'Raah clasped her hands in front of her chest, pleading with Nadia for her help.

"Bloodshed is undesirable," the angel relented. "Fine. I'll get you up there, but if the beast starts to become aggressive, I will draw my sword. How do you intend to communicate with it?"

"It won't," Sa'Raah promised. "I learned the language of dragons on Tarkir, from my mother."

"Is that the strange tongue you and Marthel communicate in sometimes?" Nadia asked, momentarily distracted.

"It is," Sa'Raah said, donning a helmet forged from scales similar to her armor. It was actually little more than a face mask fashioned after her mother's snout that fit over her horns to hold it in place. "We don't have much time, I need to get up there."

"Keep tension in your muscles, and think light," Nadia instructed, picking Sa'Raah off the ground by her biceps and leaping into the air with a powerful flap of her wings.

The various keepers of law and order on the ground did not notice an elf being carried up to the hellkite by an angel.

"How close do I need to get you?" Nadia asked.

"As close as you can." Sa'Raah kept her eyes on the dragon. Hellkites, she'd learned, had a characteristic method of breathing fire. It usually started with an arcing of the neck and giving their target an appraising eye before unleashing their breath weapons. As the beast on the roof made eye contact with Sa'Raah, she screamed for Nadia to dodge. A bright jet of flame zipped past them, but Nadia lost her grip on Sa'Raah, sending the dragon girl tumbling through the air. Her bright gold hair and green cape streamed out behind her like two banners.

One of the dragon's tail spikes whisked into Sa'Raah's view. She grabbed for it instinctively, arms closing around it rather than impaling herself on the tip.

"You are a feisty one, aren't you?" Sa'Raah said, clambering over the hellkite's tail and onto the tower roof. She started her climb in order to be more on level with the dragon's head. The closer to the head's height, the more likely it would be to listen to her. A second spire only a few feet away would provide her with better verticality than the path that led to the hellkite's feet. She jumped for it, kicking roof tiles into the abandoned bazaar below.

"Sometimes I wish mother had given me wings," Sa'Raah muttered as she continued her ascent. She hauled herself up on a weather vane, bending the thin metal with her weight, but it was enough for her to stand at a height that put her at eye level with the dragons current posture.

The hellkite dragon was focused on the gathering soldiers below and spitting flames in an attempt to scare them away.

"Hello there, um, dragon," Sa'Raah called out in draconic. Normally she would have addressed the creature as 'brother' or 'sister', but determining the creature's gender hadn't been at the top of her list of priorities.

Recognition flashed in the hellkite's eyes. One red iris rolled up and over as the slitted pupil focused on Sa'Raah.

"You are in the territory of the illustrious Niv Mizzet, Dragonlord of Ravnica," Sa'Raah continued.

The dragon emitted a rumbling noise that Sa'Raah realized was a laugh. It commenced speaking, "I know no master little snack. This is my sky. My aerie. My territory."

"I am Sa'Raah, the envoy of dragonfire and daughter of the elder dragon, Dromoka of Tarkir. When I say you are in the territory of a Dragonlord, you will swear fealty to the lord or leave and never return," Sa'Raah shouted, baring her teeth and spitting a small fireball from the corner of her mouth. She kept her eyes wide and unblinking. The first to blink would admit their submission to the other.

The hellkite roared in her face.

Sa'Raah returned the roar with just as much volume, gaining the attention of the gathering collection of soldiers below.

"Who is up there?" one of the Boros soldiers asked. He put his hand up to block the midday sun. "Looks like a woman. Maybe an elf with that hair?"

"We ordered a total evacuation," a justicar responded. "When they come down, assuming they don't get eaten, we'll issue a citation for defiance of safety measures."

"I really don't think that should be the first thing on our agenda," the soldier said. He drew his sword.

"Force has not been authorized in this scenario," another justicar cautioned, a hint of intimidation in her voice. "We are to detain the dragon and wait for proper transport to return it to its habitat in the badlands."

"It's a bloody dragon," another soldier said, readying her pike. "It's not going to wait for your bureaucracy."

Up on the tower roof, Sa'Raah continued her staring contest with the hellkite.

The dragon reared back its head and let loose a blast of flame at the armor clad elf. Sa'Raah crossed her arms in front of her face, trusting her mother's blessing to protect her from dragonfire on this faraway world.

The hellkite was confused when the little snack remained standing and not burnt into a crunchy morsel.

"This is the power of the Dragonlord," Sa'Raah bellowed. "Swear fealty or go."

The hellkite extended its neck, sniffing Sa'Raah curiously.

"Swear!" Sa'Raah demanded.

"I and my brood swear fealty to the Dragonlord Niv Mizzet," the hellkite said reluctantly, blinking its eyes a few times for emphasis.

"Good, the Dragonlord will accept your services. Return to your home and tell your brood of their new master." Sa'Raah dismissed the hellkite, who jumped into the air and flew back to the badlands just as a flight of angels appeared on the opposite horizon.

Sa'Raah slid down from the spire onto a balcony below. Nadia landed gently on the railing.

"Others are coming," the angel said. "We must go." She picked Sa'Raah up and they flew off towards the Zameck Guild Hall where Odom was likely waiting.

Far below, hidden from the soldiers and justicars making themselves look busy now that their target had left of its own accord, a young shapeshifter had been observing the exchange between the elf woman and dragon.

"Interesting," Dahnivan Trent muttered to himself, pulling his dark cloak tighter around himself when one of the justicars glanced back in his direction. Of course they couldn't see me, Dahni thought, but still, why risk it? He slunk backwards deeper into the alleyway and entered one of the many secret doors that led down to the headquarters of House Dimir.


	17. Chapter 17

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 16: Battlefield

"Rinok, there's motion on the horizon," Vilhelm said, voice muffled by his helmet.

"I don't see anything," Rhyne said, squinting. "I can see everything. If something was there, I'd know."

"How many times do I have to tell you that vampires have heightened senses," Vilhelm groaned.

Rhyne casually pulled out his ceremonial dagger and dug it into his leg. Suddenly the line of advancing soldiers Vilhelm saw swam into focus. Rhyne felt himself growing lightheaded and wobbled on his feet.

"You can't be doing that. We need you alive." Vilhelm spit in his hand and rubbed it across Rhyne's knife wound.

"Agreed, Rhyne, you're no use dead. Use one of the men for that," Rinok said dismissively. "How many are there, Vilhelm?"

"More than what we've got, Rinok. This venture is proving foolish. Perhaps it's time to move on?"

"What? And lose out on the chance to destroy this foolish emperor in glorious battle like honorable men?" Rinok boomed.

"Rinok," Vilhelm said calmly, turning to face him, "we do not have the manpower to stand up to an imperial army. The numbers are not in our favor. All probabilities point to this being a disastrous failure."

"My men are worth at least ten of theirs. We have conviction. We have the drive to strive for greatness. We have the power of purpose." Rinok began pacing and gesticulating wildly. "We are going to go in there and absolutely crush those weak imperial troops and then take the fight directly to the Kami. Don't legends say that when the Twin Kami is separated the barrier between the spirit and mortal realms will deteriorate? We'll eventually be able to do battle with gods themselves! The Patron of the Moon didn't put up much of a fight, and I'll admit that was disappointing, but what about facing a dragon? There are five, right?"

"Were five," Vilhelm corrected under his breath before launching into his logical takedown of Rinok's argument for fighting. "Again, your pride is getting in your own way. These men are farmers, craftsmen, and maybe one or two disgruntled samurai. This is not a fighting force in what I'd call top condition. Even the mercenaries look like something you dragged out of a swamp."

"Can't you just do that thing you do and control them all for us?" Rhyne suggested.

"Not even I can sustain that many thralls at once," Vilhelm admitted.

Rinok groaned. "Why have you been so critical lately? It's getting quite frustrating when my top advisor keeps advising against every plan I have. Were you not a warrior in your previous life?"

"I was a soldier," Vilhelm corrected. "There is a huge difference."

"Keep an eye on Rhyne," Rinok instructed. "I'm going to check on the prisoner."

Rinok stalked through the camp, rage plain on his face. Vilhelm was wrong. He had to be. Rinok's armies exuded superiority, they oozed it like… well like ooze! He could command men better than anyone in the multiverse. They looked up to him in awe of his sword blazing like the twin suns of the desert plane Amonkhet as he showered himself in the blood of foes they only dreamed of facing, never mind vanquishing. Rinok tossed his shoulder length dark hair out of his face and scratched at the edges of his goatee. Was it time for him to shave again so soon?

"How's the prisoner?" he barked at Ashleigh, who leaned against a hitching post outside of Princess Michiko's tent.

She looked up at him coolly while braiding her blood-colored hair. "Quiet as usual. She hasn't spoken at all since your last interrogation. Just sits there with her legs crossed praying or something."

"That will be all." He turned to leave.

"Something wrong, general?" Ashleigh asked.

"You're from Innistrad like Vilhelm, right?" Rinok asked, still facing away from her.

"He and I ran in different circles, but yes. If you want information on him, I unfortunately have none. I never bothered involving myself in vampire turf wars and they tended to stay clear of cultists connected to the likes of Griselbrand, Ormendahl, you know. The big scary ones."

"I know in my heart what I'm doing is right. I know my men will prevail if I go into this battle. We always have. Now that I've managed to raise a large enough army, now that we have a real purpose for our war other than meaningless bloodshed, I know that we'll succeed. We'll take our fight all the way to the Kami and liberate the people of Kamigawa from their spiritual tyranny!" Rinok shouted the last sentence into the sky.

"And what will you do then? Once the people are liberated?" Ashleigh asked. Unbeknownst to Rinok, Princess Michiko listened intently to their conversation.

"Liberation is an ongoing battle. More Kami will undoubtedly fill the gaps in the ranks of their fallen comrades. It will be an eternal quest consuming generation after generation of human and spirit."

"You don't think people will get tired of fighting?" Ashleigh asked.

The question seemed innocent enough to Rinok. "No. I don't. I never get tired of it. On Valla we never got tired of it." He traced the lightning scar across his chest and abdomen, knowing the pattern by heart even through his armor. He was Rinok, Blessed of the Immersturm. The one chosen to bring war across planes, to ensure conflict existed eternal.

"There are a lot of worlds out there, Rinok. One thing I've learned from hanging around Odom is that they're all different and each one is surprisingly beautiful regardless of the racket constantly ringing in my ears. This place is no different. It's not Valla. The people here aren't like the people there." Ashleigh finished her braid and began picking at her nails, a habit she shared with Rhyne.

"The nature of mortals is the same everywhere."

"What of the immortals, then? The spirits, demons, angels, gods, vampires depending on where you look?"

"They too seek the same things across worlds."

"Huh. Maybe if I blow one up then it might not be that big of a deal," Ashleigh mused. It wouldn't be this one, though. Kamigawa sang to her where other planes clanged disharmoniously. Their spirits were alive, rather than undead. Souls without corporeal forms living on another facet of the world.

Inside the tent, Michiko arched one eyebrow.

"Rinok-dono," one of the foot soldiers said, bowing low before his leader, "a messenger has come from the imperial forces. He brings the emperor with him."

Rinok's eyes widened and a hungry smile crept across his face. "This is fantastic. Fetch Vilhelm. We have an audience to attend."

Rinok's own tent opened for the emperor. Masahiro, accompanied by General Yamamori, entered cautiously. Rinok sat comfortably, Vilhelm standing behind him in full armor, sheathed katana at his side.

General Yamamori made a note of the armored man's stance. It was improper for the type of sword he chose to carry. He couldn't possibly be a real samurai and disgraced the armor he wore. This man, this Rinok, sitting with one foot resting on his knee, had scraped the bottom of the barrel for his army, of that Yamamori was certain. Destroying these inexperienced troops and faithless mercenaries would be easy if his emperor gave the word.

"Greetings, Rinok," Emperor Masahiro said, sitting across from the admittedly disheveled man in front of him. Battlefield life had not proven kind to the pampered emperor thus far either, so he gave Rinok a pass. "I am Kuromizu Masahiro, Emperor of humanity."

Rinok chuckled. "Fancy title considering humanity doesn't want an emperor."

"You will show respect to your emperor," General Yamamori barked. He noticed the false samurai widen his stance and place a hand on his sword. Again, the technique was improper.

"Oh, you are not my emperor. I know no master other than the glory and honor of battle, which begs the question. Why have you stooped to the level of diplomacy rather than facing me? Are you that much of a coward?" Rinok baited the emperor, hoping to draw out an emotional response to get the conflict started.

"Cowardice is not the source of my reticence, Rinok. Compassion for my subjects tempers my fury."

"You want me to just give up because you've got bigger numbers. Well one of my men is worth ten of yours!" Rinok repeated.

Under his helmet and mask, Vilhelm rolled his eyes.

"I pray we never have to put that assertion to the test. What are the terms you desire for negotiating surrender?"

"I won't surrender. I want to fight, but not here. Not like this. I want to fight your army on the field of battle and let training and tactics decide who is the best. Besides, your prayers won't do you much good anymore. I've seen to that." Rinok involuntarily glanced towards the tent where Ashleigh guarded Princess Michiko.

"If that is how you feel," Emperor Masahiro stood and exited the tent, his robes swishing around him as he did so. General Yamamori followed swiftly.

"That could have gone better," the general whispered to his Emperor.

"Agreed, General, however we are left with no choice. It seems you were right." Masahiro sighed. "I had hoped to avoid bloodshed."

"Taking prisoners is an option, Emperor," General Yamamori reminded him as Masahiro mounted his horse to ride back to their camp. They set off at a brisk trot.

"As much as it pains me to wish it, I hope some of his men desert. It's the cowardly thing to do and certainly not something I'd want in a soldier, but you've seen these people, General. Are they really soldiers?"

"Negative, Your Highness. I see men who once wielded ploughs and rakes taking up arms for a cause they don't understand under a man they do not know." General Yamamori's face remained stony and unreadable, but inside he felt turmoil. Could the populace be swayed so easily by a strange man with strange ways and flashy words?

"They don't know me," Masahiro said.

"They know the Imperial Family. They know the Kuromizu name."

They rode on for some time in silence. Masahiro opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croak. He slumped forward on his horse, an arrow sticking out of his back. Blood began to stain his soft robes.

"Emperor!" General Yamamori cried, pulling his own steed to a stop as the Emperor fell off his horse and onto the grassy plain. General Yamamori gently lifted the prone body of his liege, settled him across the general's saddle, and swung up behind him. The arrowhead couldn't be removed yet, or else the wound could bleed further. He also couldn't break the shaft, or the arrow might never be able to come out. General Yamamori resumed his ride back to the Imperial camp with renewed haste.

Somewhere a great distance away, a Soratami slung a bow over his shoulder and disappeared into the air. The battle would commence. The rebels would lose. Their Patron would be avenged.


	18. Chapter 18

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 17: It Begins Again

Field medics worked tirelessly to save the life of their emperor while General Yamamori paced outside the tent. He grumbled to himself of his foolishness for entertaining the emperor's desire for diplomacy and a peaceful resolution to this conflict.

"Of course those worthless renegades have no honor, striking a man down who would give them their lives back." He slammed his fist into a folding table that had been moved out of the infirmary tent to give the medics more room to work.

Souta, First Son of the Line of Seshiro and military leader of the Orochi, stepped out of the shadow of a nearby tent followed closely by his sisters and the kitsune Soft-Ear. His four arms were crossed over his bare chest and the sun glinted off of his green scales.

"May we offer our assistance, General?" Souta asked.

The general looked at them over his shoulder and gave a nod before returning to his pacing. He'd never before thought about the possibility of outliving his emperor. Of course, the crown prince was still too young to rule alone so he'd need a regent. General Yamamori didn't think at his age he had it in him to train another monarch, but how could he leave the job to someone else? A counselor or a politician might wind up corrupting the young prince's mind to suit their own needs. He had much to think about, both regarding his failure and how best to atone for it.

Inside the infirmary tent, Sakae and Satsuki observed the medics' work while their brother and Soft-Ear discussed the emperor's prognosis.

"We've prayed as fervently as we've worked to save him," one medic said, brushing sweat from his brow. "It seems no one is listening."

"The Kami always listen," Sakae said, kneeling to take the medic's place by the emperor's cot. His too pale skin broke out in a cold sweat. Could a wound be infected so quickly, Sakae wondered to herself. She placed one of her right hands on the emperor's forehead and the other on his neck, feeling his raging fever and weakened heartbeat. His breath seemed to slow at her cool touch. "Satsuki, what do you make of this?"

Satsuki knelt by her younger sister, taking one of her left hands. "Progression is quick. The emperor was in good health?" she asked a medic.

"Of course," the medic responded. "The emperor is in the prime of his life."

Satsuki met her sister's gaze. They said as one, "Poison."

"Fetch me the arrow," Sakae said.

The infirmary tent became a flurry of robes as the medics frantically searched for what they had done with the arrow that struck their beloved emperor. One of them finally found it after what seemed like ages and presented it to Sakae. She took hold of it in her other left hand and rose.

"I have a friend who might be able to help us with this. Her abilities are unique."

"Kyari?" Souta asked.

"Kyari," Sakae confirmed.

"Your brother and I will remain here and pray for the emperor's recovery or ease his passing, whichever becomes necessary," Soft-Ear said. The ruffling of his tails belied the part of the sentence he believed to be true.

000000

Kyari arrived at the Imperial encampment moments after receiving Sakae's message. Brock, Tamiyo, and Marthel dressed in full armor complete with a mempo obscuring his face, followed close behind her.

"Kyari!" Sakae called, running up to her friend. Surrounded by other humans, Sakae was suddenly struck with the realization that Kyari didn't look much like them. Then again, humans had a lot more variability than the Orochi. She shrugged mentally, placing that thought somewhere where she might pick it back up again if she remembered. "The human emperor has been shot. We have the arrow. I think it's poisoned, but what we don't know is who shot it. Everything points to this Rinok whose army is camped over the horizon. Apparently the emperor tried to reason with him."

Kyari sighed. "That was his first mistake. Take me to the emperor. Give Brock the arrow. Perhaps he, Tamiyo, and Marthel can divine its origins better than I."

She left with Sakae. Brock, Tamiyo, and Marthel stood around looking at the arrow now held in Brock's hands.

"Again, similar in construction to the Kolaghan. This isn't even a hunting arrow from this plane," Tamiyo said. "I'd hazard to say Rinok's taught them more than just the battle tactics of Tarkir. Apparently he spent a lot of time there."

"I'm not surprised," Brock said. "Their recklessness and bloodlust are right up his alley. We all heard what he did to the Patron of the Moon. He didn't just kill it, he desecrated the corpse."

"I have a different idea of where his tactics come from," Marthel said. "There are tales floating around of a different Tarkir. One with no dragons."

"Marthel that's impossible," Brock scoffed.

"Is it?" Marthel said. "You know that claw tattoo I have? The one that looks sort of like the Atarka's symbol but just different enough? I lived a different Tarkir than you did. When I first planeswalked I came to a world where five clans warred in absence of dragonlords. One day when I came back, everything was different. Surrak, my Khan and friend, no longer remembered me. Instead I had to win the approval of a giant eating machine, which I do respect in her own right and consider her something like a mother to me. But I'm getting off topic. The point is there was a clan that became the Kolaghan. They were called the Mardu, and quick raids with as much destruction of their enemies as necessary was their primary way of expanding their territory. They mostly raided the neighboring Abzan who lived in the deserts. If you think I'm crazy, go to Tarkir yourself and talk to Sarkhan Vol. He'll remember. I know he does."

"That's…" Tamiyo began. Her eyes remained wide in disbelief. "Marthel if what you're saying is true, but how could something like this happen? I have to discuss this with Narset."

"She was the Khan of the Jeskai when I first arrived," Marthel said.

Brock, meanwhile, tuned them out. He instead focused on the arrow in his hands. There could be no doubt it came from Rinok's rebels. The construction was an obvious giveaway. The underhanded tactics pointed straight to Vilhelm. How any of them had ever trusted that slimy wretch Brock would never know. The socially inept blood artist shtick could have been so easy to see through if Marthel had just…

No. If I had just, Brock thought.

"The past is changeable to those who look back on it, Baraq." Kyodai whispered in his ear. "But it is no use dwelling on what should have been. Look at what is now."

"We need to focus," Brock said, drawing his companions out of their conversation. "Rinok's behind this, there's no denying that. What should we do next?"

"Obviously," Marthel said, "we need to engage him in battle and hopefully defeat him. A fight is what he wants and he won't stop until he gets one. Besides, in the chaos of a battle someone can sneak back to their camp and free Michiko."

"I'll take that responsibility," Tamiyo said. "I'm the lightest on my feet and can glide through their camp unseen."

"Mom, no," Brock said before he realized what words came out of his mouth.

Tamiyo looked at him, wide eyed with a tear rolling down her cheek. Her mouth quivered somewhere between a smile and a sob. "Son, I…"she threw her arms around him. "I've waited so long for you to say that."

Brock awkwardly patted her back and mouthed to Marthel "Help me".

Nope. You don't need my help.

Yes, yes I do. Make her stop. Please.

Embrace the uncomfortableness, Brock. This is what having parents is like when you're an adult.

Like you would know.

I wish I did.

Brock received some brief flashes of bodies torn apart by wild beasts that stood taller than a war horse and felt a burning sensation in his chest as an angel, Nadia, stood over him.

I'm sorry.

Let her hold you while she has the chance. You might regret it.

"Tamiyo… Mom… I think it'd be best if I went to their camp. Kyodai's sort of picked me to hang around until we find Michiko, and if she's not at the camp then I can fight my way out if I have to." Brock extricated himself from Tamiyo's embrace. "Your other kids need you too."

"If you do go, at least get a moth from one of the imperial troops. You'll be able to get in over Rinok's head," Tamiyo suggested.

Brock balked at the suggestion. His experience with flying insects had been Tarkir's giant carnivorous mantises. Legends uttered in hushed words away from the ears of dragons spoke of monks whose minds had such clarity they could control the creatures enough to ride them.

"I can assure you they're perfectly safe," Marthel said. "Very well trained and docile. They also like being scratched behind their antennae."

"And you know this how?" Brock asked.

"Kyari taught me a few things about animal husbandry." Marthel smirked under his mask.

0000000

Meanwhile in the infirmary tent Kyari was hard at work attempting to determine the nature of the poison that afflicted the emperor. The mana flowing through and around his body pulsed faintly, growing weaker as his body lost more and more ground in the battle against the toxin assaulting it. Maybe if she connected him to a leyline he could draw power and heal himself, but the nearest leyline was miles away and even she couldn't divert one that far.

But she might be able to mimic it. Kyari settled into a lotus position and sent out roots of her own magic sprawling as far as they could go. Sweat broke out on her forehead as the strain of stretching herself so thin began to take its toll. Her breath came in short gasps.

"Kyari," Sakae said, reaching out with both her left hands.

Satsuki stopped her. "She doesn't need our interference, sister."

I have to become a leyline, Kyari thought. I can make myself seem like a hydra, a bear, any beast I've come into contact with. I can draw them to me and tame them by mimicking their mana flow and having them believe I'm one of them. Why can't I do the same for a plane? We're all just extensions and intersections of the leylines. It's how we even have magic in the first place.

She felt herself slipping. Why was she doing this again? What was this sense of urgency she felt? She had to ground herself. Kyari opened her eyes. Five things she could see: the ailing emperor, a table filled with herbal remedies, Sakae and Satsuki standing together, rows of empty cots, a lantern growing dimmer. Four things she could touch: the soft grass beneath her, the rough canvas of the cot where her hand rested, the wooden cot leg pressing against her knee, her braid lining up perfectly with her spine. Three things she could hear: birds twittering outside, the snorting of horses, her own shallow breathing. Two things she could smell: the sharp tang of disinfectants and Satsuki's floral perfume. One thing she could taste: the sharpness of black tea from her breakfast that lingered under her tongue.

Her magic snapped back into her body. Kyari gripped her head and took deep breaths to stave off the pounding she knew would start at her temples. In his cot, the emperor's breathing had stopped. Sakae flew to Kyari's side while her sister examined the emperor and called for a medic. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. The emperor was dead.

"I couldn't… I'm sorry…" Kyari gasped. She felt herself start to rock back and forth reflexively.

"Does your friend require aid, Lady Sakae?" one of the medics asked.

"I'm fine… water… willow bark if you have any…" Kyari tried making her voice steadier.

"Boil three strips of willow bark in a tea kettle," Sakae instructed. "She overexerted herself and it's caused a magical backlash and a splitting headache."

"I can try again," Kyari said, opening her eyes. She closed them immediately. Everything was so bright it burned her.

"You need rest, Kyari. There's nothing anyone can do now," Satsuki said.

News of the emperor's death reached the ears of General Yamamori swiftly. When questioned by others what would be done, he had only one answer.

"We attack at dawn."

000000

Rinok received news of the emperor's death from one of his scouts. Vilhelm's surprise was hidden beneath his helmet and Rhyne's reaction was laughter. Ashleigh had been left out of this meeting, as she had all previous meetings since the arrival of Princess Michiko.

"This wasn't part of the plan," Vilhelm growled once the scout had left Rinok's tent.

"No, but at least we'll finally get our fight," Rinok smiled. He pulled out a mirror of polished bronze and dragged a razor over his cheeks.

"Do you even care about why you started out on this quest in the first place?" Vilhelm asked.

"What's it matter why we started," Rhyne said. "We're going to finish it one way or another."

"I'm surrounded by idiots," Vilhelm muttered to himself. Clearly he'd put his faith and resources in the wrong planeswalkers. With any luck they'd die tomorrow along with their failed army. Vilhelm, on the other hand, would use the chaos as his chance to escape. There was a lovely lady waiting to quench his thirst back on Ravnica.


	19. Chapter 19

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 18: The First Battle

"The emperor's dead!" Ashleigh exclaimed, bursting into the tent housing the mortal half of Kamigawa's Twin Kami. " Someone from here shot him, but nobody's owning up to it. I don't even think it was planned. What happens now?"

Michiko's hand flew to her mouth. "Battle is inevitable. As sad as it is, this might be our only chance."

"How do I get the sphere off Vilhelm? He probably doesn't trust Rinok enough anymore to leave him alone in a fight. Someone would have to stay back and guard you, and we both know who that might be." She hung her head. "If I could just find a way to get close enough to him, pick his pocket or something."

"Or we reunite myself and my sister then with our divine powers we might be able to get this object for you. If it's powerful enough to allow Rinok back into our world against our wishes, it has no place here," Michiko said. "My sister is near, I can feel it."

"Can't she just come find you then if she's so close?" Ashleigh asked.

"That is difficult. I am a mortal, just a human like these soldiers. This side of the barrier is home for me. Kyodai, on the other hand, is entirely Kami. She can't remain on this side for an extended period of time without me or some other mortal anchor. Together we form the barrier, but apart we are bound to our respective sides." Small spirits twinkled in the air around Ashleigh and Michiko. "However, the barrier is weakening without us."

"So you think she's found some mortal host and that's what's keeping her from you?" Ashleigh asked. Spirits on this world, though beautiful, behaved in ways she found strange.

"There can't be any other answer."

"If I provide a… distraction… could you escape on your own and make it to wherever Kyodai is hiding?" Ashleigh asked. The wheels in her mind began to turn. Rinok might be prepared to fight supernatural beings, but his men lacked either the ability or the courage. A rampaging demon might be just what she needed to cause enough chaos for both Michiko's escape and her plans to double cross Vilhelm, Rinok, and Rhyne.

"It depends on the distraction," the princess answered. She tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves of her kimono, tapping on her wrists with two fingers under the fabric. "What did you have in mind?"

"What's the most evil being in the spirit realm that you and Kyodai could conceivably fight together?"

Michicko blanched. "That is not a good distraction. Pulling an Oni out of its imprisonment is dangerous. They're sealed away in the Sokenzan mountains for a reason. Spirits of destruction and chaos are difficult to subdue, even moreso now that Rinok has caused so much unrest."

"Okay. What about a smaller one? Nothing truly malevolent, just destructive," Ashleigh suggested.

"Have you no other options?" Michiko asked.

"No. I don't. Summoning demons is the only thing I can actually do without relying on someone else. In absence of other people who can use magic, wizards, druids, shamans, clerics, and the like, this is all I've got. You don't need spells to summon demons, just the rites, and I can't actually cast my own spells. Every instance of magic I've done since I first became what I am has been going through someone else's mind for anything I can use and taking it like faeries harvest dreams," she explained. "I'm limited to the tools of my allies, and more often my opponents."

"I see." Michiko stared off into the distance towards the camp where Kyodai waited for her. "If we have no other options, a minor Oni should prove no problem for the champion my sister has chosen."

0000000

"Was Kyari successful?" Brock asked Souta. The Orochi's sisters remained inside the tent with their friend and the corpse of the emperor while he stood guard out front. Brock himself was still being followed by Tamiyo and Marthel.

"I'm afraid not, Brock," Souta said, shaking his head. "The poison acted too quickly and she overworked herself."

Before Souta had finished his sentence, Brock rushed inside. "Kyari!" he cried upon seeing her laying in her own cot, a damp towel across her forehead and an empty cup of tea in Sakae's hand.

"Shhh!" Satsuki hissed. She continued in hushed tones, "Magical backlash. Bad headache."

We should talk like this. Marthel nudged Brock with his elbow.

My head hurts…

Shh, Kyari, it'll be okay. Brock didn't mean to be so loud.

What happened in here? Why couldn't you save the emperor?

I tried. I really did, but the leylines are so far away and I couldn't mirror them so he could heal and then everything got so fuzzy and-

Marthel mentally cut her off. Shh. Just relax. You did your best. He shot Brock a dirty look under his helmet before continuing privately, Dude cut her some slack.

Just fix her, okay?

"Can I have a look?" Marthel asked. Sakae narrowed her eyes but Satsuki's hand on her sister's shoulder calmed the younger Orochi woman.

"It'll be okay, Sakae," she said.

Marthel knelt down and took off one of his gloves. The sisters' eyes widened, but they said nothing. Kyari had many strange allies and even stranger enemies. He took Kyari's hand and a gentle white light radiated from his palm. Satsuki and Sakae leaned around Marthel to see what was happening. They'd never witnessed this type of magic before.

After a few minutes Kyari began to stir. She pulled the towel off her forehead and found her way into a sitting position. "Marthel?" she muttered groggily, looking down at the armored planeswalker. She blinked a few more times and rubbed her eyes with her free hand.

"Are you okay?" Brock asked, concern evident on his face.

"Yeah." Kyari scratched behind one of her ears. "I just went a little overboard. Couldn't save the emperor, though. Sorry."

"It's fine," Marthel said. He repeated himself, "You did your best."

"What happens now?" Kyari asked.

"I heard my brother speaking with General Yamamori. He said they're going to attack Rinok's forces at dawn," Sakae said.

"That puts the rising sun at their backs. Their enemies will have to stare into the light to shoot arrows. Good plan," Brock muttered. "Kyodai," he said louder, "are you ready to go before the sun rises?"

Kyodai shimmered into view. "My sister prepares for our reunion just as I do."

000000

Shortly before sunrise, Ashleigh slipped out of the camp. If anyone had bothered to ask where she was going, her automatic answer was the latrines several hundred yards west of the camp. When the grass began to grow taller, she knelt and began to crawl, hoping that nobody watched her. Smaller spirits twinkled in and out of sight here and there. She wondered if the Imperial troops were seeing them as well.

As soon as she thought she was far enough away, Ashleigh pulled out a silver dagger. This dagger was entirely different from Rhyne's ceremonial blade that he used to draw power from his victims or himself. Ashleigh opened her left hand and with the dagger in her right began carving the runes she'd copied onto her palm into the ground. It was tedious work. The Oni of Kamigawa seemed to require more complex summoning rites than demons had on Innistrad. Then again they not only had to fight through the barrier between the mortal and spirit realms, but also their imprisonment on top of that.

Once the runes were finished and she'd double checked to make sure everything was perfect, Ashleigh slashed the dagger across her palm and let the blood drip onto the runes. This part had been improvisation. Michiko didn't know whether or not combining the techniques of multiple worlds would work, but as far as Ashleigh was concerned all demons wanted the same thing. They wanted freedom.

A red Oni the size of a large horse with four legs ending in eagle talons, twisting ram horns, and three eyes leapt out of the ground. It put its snout to the ground and began sniffing frantically. This next part Ashleigh hadn't been looking forward to. She tapped the creature on the shoulder, punched it square in the nose when it looked up at her, and started running and screaming. The Oni gave chase as she led it all the way back to Rinok's camp.

"This is bad. This is very bad!" she cried, dropping her dagger and grabbing it by the blade in her left hand. She bit back the pain. It had to be convincing that she'd hurt herself somehow other than summoning a demon. The Oni knocked her down and she screamed for help as she scrambled backwards, smacking it on the nose with the hilt of her dagger.

Several soldiers burst out of their tents, armor halfway on and weapons drawn. The Oni's head shot up and it gave chase as the soldiers began running for their lives. When Rinok emerged from his tent with his glowing sword drawn, he ran straight for the Oni completely unaware of the army advancing on the horizon.

"Another demon to add to the trophies," he snarled with perverse glee.

Vilhelm came out of the tent after Rinok and at a much slower pace. His eyes glossed over the cowering Ashleigh gripping her dagger upside down with blood trickling down her arm. He felt a dry sensation in his mouth, but now wasn't the time for feeding. The Oni rampaging through their camp made him sigh. It seemed that everything that could go wrong was. His ears perked up as he heard a horn sound from far away. His eyes settled on the steadily darkening line advancing from the horizon. The red sun made it difficult for him to see exactly what came towards them, but he couldn't doubt that it was bigger than they were.

"Rinok, rally the men," Vilhelm shouted. "Enemy on the horizon. No. Just forget the damned Oni. You can kill a hundred of them later." Vilhelm wished he could massage his temples through the mask on his helmet. He was tired of babysitting these savages.

Speaking of savages, where was Rhyne?

Rhyne crept through the camp, thankful of the cover a sudden Oni attack provided. His target, the spirit princess' tent, stood unguarded. He thought he'd heard Ashleigh shrieking earlier when the Oni first entered the camp, meaning he was in the clear. His mouth watered as he imagined the power a spirit god would give him if he stole their life with his enchanted dagger.

A flurry of small spirits assaulted him, but he brushed them away with ease. The tent flaps ruffled in a light breeze. Rhyne made sure to keep himself to the shadows, avoiding the red light of the rising sun to maintain his element of surprise. His heart began to pound with the thrill of the hunt. Each footfall of every soldier in this camp made a distinct sound as he honed his senses. Light and shadow and motion became the core of his vision and his nose inhaled and examined every odor it was presented with. The tent drew closer and Rhyne drew his dagger. A maniacal cackle erupted from his throat as he ripped the tent flaps open only to find the spirit princess had escaped.

"Rinok!" Rhyne bellowed, stalking through the camp. He found the other planeswalker proudly standing atop the corpse of the Oni, drenched in blood that smelled like sulphur. Rhyne gagged.

"Please recall my sense of smell is at least ten times as strong," Vilhelm muttered to Rhyne as he sidled up to him.

"Rinok!" Rhyne shouted again. "The princess is missing."

Rinok's face fell. "Wasn't Ashleigh supposed to be guarding her?"

"She seemed a little too busy with the Oni last I saw her." Vilhelm scanned the crowd, unable to locate their female accomplice. "But that's not what's important right now. The Imperial troops are on their way. We're all going to get ourselves killed unless you can turn this ragtag group into an army right now."

Rinok smirked and raised his glowing sword. His soldiers stared up at it in awe for a moment before rushing to ready themselves for battle. Subcommanders gathered their groups together and formed rows and columns, just like Rinok had taught them for large field battles. Rinok himself stared into the red sun rising over Kamigawa. This wouldn't be like the Mardu's quick raids. He had the chance to recreate Valla right here on this world and ignite the spark of eternal war. He surveyed his men, armed with spears and swords, and felt a well of pride surge up from his chest.

"Forward!" Rinok shouted, thrusting his sword into the air once more and pointing towards their enemies.

Meanwhile, Ashleigh crawled through the grass with Princess Michiko.

"I know this isn't very dignified, your highness, but this is how it has to be," Ashleigh said quietly. The camp had become a dull roar as preparations for their first real battle were underway. The two women had barely made it past the edge of the camp.

"Look, up there," Michiko said, pointing to a lone mothrider.

"A scout?" Ashleigh asked.

"It's Kyodai, that's who she's with."

The mothrider circled over the camp and Ashleigh caught a glimpse of a bald head and blue and yellow robes. "Did she have to pick Brock?"

"He's of this world," Michiko said.

"Yeah, but he doesn't like me. This will look bad," Ashleigh said, gesturing between the princess and herself.

"Michiko is below us," Kyodai said to Brock. He swerved to avoid a large spirit that materialized in front of them. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw more appearing over what would be the battlefield.

"Any ideas?" Brock asked.

"Take us down, Baraq. The enemy will not see us."

"Easier said than done. I still don't think I know how to drive this thing." Brock gingerly pulled back on the apparatus that could be considered reins. The docile moth dutifully obeyed, landing some yards away in the tall grass.

"Kyodai!" Michiko cried, jumping up off the ground and running towards Brock.

"Hey!" Rhyne shouted from just inside the camp. He grabbed a passing soldier, thrust his dagger into the man's chest and pulled strength from the man's dying breaths. In a single leap, he cleared the distance between himself and Brock and held his still bloody dagger at the other man's throat. "That's my prey."

Ashleigh crept through the grass behind Rhyne, her own dagger gripped properly in her hand this time. Brock had to know something she could use to take down Rhyne. One of his pyromancy spells might be useful. But Rhyne himself held onto something far more devastating. Ashleigh dragged the uncooperative mana of the plain through her, filtering it into what she needed for the spell. She sighed before completing the final component, plunging her own dagger into her stomach.

Rhyne felt an ice cold palm slam into his back as Ashleigh groaned in pain. Rhyne felt the coldness spread from her hand through his body and fell forward onto Brock, who shrugged the limp planeswalker off of himself.

Brock looked down at Ashleigh, profusely bleeding with disheveled hair and breathing in ragged gasps.

"Take the princess and run." She stumbled to her feet. "I'm not done with these losers yet." She turned and staggered back into the camp, making a wavering beeline for Rinok's tent. If Vilhelm had left the sphere alone in his rush to deal with the Oni, it might still be in there.

Brock turned to Michiko and Kyodai, who had resumed her more humanoid form. The sisters held hands and looked to the sky. Spirits began to retreat into their own world now that the Twin Kami was restored.

"We owe her our gratitude," Michiko said. "I did promise our aid in removing the sphere she seeks from Rinok's accomplice."

"Don't help her with that. She just wants it to give to someone else who'll misuse it." Brock mounted his moth. "Would you like a ride?"

"We have much to restore in the spirit realm," the sisters said before fading from view.

"Um… yip yip?" he said to the moth, lightly snapping the reins. It flapped its large white wings and ascended into the sky just as the imperial army's arrows rained down on the enemy camp.

Brock landed behind friendly lines. Kyari and Tamiyo rushed to meet him, Marthel sauntering behind them.

"Is it done?" Kyari asked as Brock slid off the insect's back.

"Michiko and Kyodai are back together and Ashleigh actually saved me from getting killed by Rhyne. I don't know what she did to him, but whatever it was she took it out of herself."

"Finally ready to admit that nobody is one hundred percent evil?" Marthel asked.

"We can discuss philosophy later," Brock said, igniting his fists. "We have a war to win."

"Be careful, son," Tamiyo said.

"I will, mom."

000000

Wasn't Rinok's tent over here? Ashleigh stumbled through the now empty camp. Rinok's soldiers had rushed out to meet their enemies. Their cries of anguish as they were butchered by real soldiers with higher skills came to her faintly.

Why do I always do this to myself? Ashleigh thought. I go too far every single time anything happens.

She knocked into a tent pole and peeked inside. Rinok's razor and bronze mirror sat on one end of an unused strategy table. On the other rested the portal sphere. A small spirit that looked like a lantern made out of blue ribbons winked at her with what she assumed was an eye before fluttering out of the tent and disappearing behind her.

Ashleigh lurched forward, slamming into the desk and grabbing the portal sphere. "I've got it," she breathed. She could take it to Odom and then everything would be fine. Niv Mizzet would lock it up in a treasure vault somewhere and show it off at parties and nobody would be able to touch it.

"Do you now?" a voice said behind her. In her state of blood loss, Ashleigh mistook it for Brock's voice.

"Dude, how many times do I have to almost kill myself to prove that I want us to be friends?" She said, turning around and freezing in her tracks. Vilhelm stood there, helmet off, white hair plastered to his gray face.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked.

"Vilhelm. Uh… just collecting my payment," she grinned sheepishly.

"Payment?" he arched an eyebrow.

"You wanted one dead planeswalker. Rhyne's out there face down in the field. Now I get my payment."

"Unfortunately," Vilhelm said, "our plans have changed. The sphere is now necessary to securing victory."

"I'll take what I was promised and leave," Ashleigh said, sidling past Vilhelm and out into the open. She broke into a staggering, zigzag run. Vilhelm merely watched her wobble and lurch towards the battle. She'd fall over any minute, of that he was certain.

You okay out there, Voids?

Marthel?

Sheesh when Brock said you'd banged yourself up I didn't think he meant this bad. Borrow whatever healing spells you need. You shouldn't have to warp the mana to cast most of mine.

Ashleigh latched onto Marthel's mental connection and filtered through the spells he offered. She picked a handful and stabilized herself.

I'll also take this one. Just in case.

She severed the connection from her end and took a deep breath. The sphere remained cradled against her chest and she broke into a run, a true run.

Vilhelm scrunched up his nose. It seemed their accomplice was a double agent. How sad. He'd actually grown to appreciate Ashleigh as the only one he was stuck here with that wasn't entirely stupid. Vilhelm also began running, easily catching up to the mortal woman. He caught ahold of her braid and yanked, sending her falling backwards onto the ground.

"Whoa," Ashleigh said, catching her breath as she sat up. "Not cool, man. You do not have consent."

"Dead bodies can't give consent," Vilhelm hissed, flashing his fangs close to her face.

Ashleigh spit in his eye. A loud crack split the sky and a ball of fire barreled towards them. Vilhelm jumped back. The last thing he saw was Ashleigh's terrified face before the impact.

"Shit," Vilhelm cursed. There went the portal sphere, his entire plan to call Rinok's armies from Valla across the blind eternities, and his leverage. There wasn't even a trace of Ashleigh left in the crater. Vilhelm found that suspicious. Perhaps it was time to abandon this venture and leave Rinok to his own devices.

In the field outside Rinok's camp, Rhyne's hand twitched. He pulled his own dagger out of an unfortunate rabbit who happened to be near him when he fell from Ashleigh's attack.

000000

Brock hurled another fistful of flames at Rinok. The instant the battle began, he'd shoved his way into the front lines and hunted the warlike walker down.

Rinok blocked the attack with his sword. The blade changed, glowing red instead of white. He swung it in a high arc, bringing it down at Brock's head. Brock slammed his hands together, stopping the blade mere inches from his face. He began to heat the metal, hoping to melt or bend it.

"That's not going to work," Rinok hissed. He wrenched his blade out of Brock's grip, cutting the other man's palms in the process. Brock's fire cauterized the wounds instantly and he reared back for a punch that connected with Rinok's smirking mouth, sending him stumbling backwards. Brock had a brief flash of Rinok sticking out his leg and moved to the left just as the other planeswalker did just that. Brock stumbled back in shock. He'd often get vague feelings about things happening, but this was the first time he'd actually seen the future.

"Stay on your feet, soldier," Rinok barked. "It's not my fault you brought fists to a swordfight." He struck out wildly with his blade. Brock ducked to avoid it before leaping into the air, bouncing off of Rinok's head and behind the disoriented man. Brock punched again with another fist enveloped in fire. The flames rippled harmlessly over Rinok's skin. Another sword strike came from the side. Brock caught the blade with his hand again, feeling the heat of the glowing blade through the protective magic keeping it from slicing through his flesh. He grabbed the sword with his other hand as well, yanking it from Rinok's grasp and throwing it into the air. Another burst of magic locked the sword inside a prison of light.

Rinok gazed at the sword in awe. Nobody had ever disarmed him before. "What are you?" he asked Brock.

"Same as you. I'm a planeswalker." He threw another punch, one without fire this time, striking Rinok's nose and breaking it with a satisfying crack. He struck Rinok in the ribs. "And this is my home." He sent Rinok flying backwards with a kick the swordsman had tried to catch in his hands.

"Don't be so sad," Brock said. "It's not my fault you brought a sword to a fistfight." He tried to seal Rinok inside another prison of light, but Rinok broke out of the half-formed bars and bolted. Brock chased after him, losing his concentration on the other prison and allowing Rinok's sword to fall to the ground.

He saw Rinok's path curving to the right in his mind's eye and allowed it to lead him along the same path, but he never caught up to the other planeswalker.

"Brock, what are you doing?" Marthel asked, blocking a sword that would have sliced his friend open like a loaf of bread with his twin blades.

"Chasing Rinok. He got away from me."

"He's back there," Marthel said, jerking his head to the left. Brock turned and saw Rinok holding his sword high and cackling.

"Damn. I was certain he went this way."

"Just get him knocked out or force him to planeswalk. We can take the rest of these guys no problem. Just like that herd of angry Lhurgoyfs."

"He's going to pay for what he's done," Brock said, gearing up for another mighty leap. As he prepared himself, an army of small birds came down from the sky and started accosting Rinok. Kyari sat astride a moth in the air directing the birds with her magic while Tamiyo flew the insect with one hand and recorded what she saw with the other. Brock couldn't help but wonder what magic this story would have.

Brock jumped, landing inside a gap in the birds he knew would be there for him. Rinok wildly swung his sword, trying to get the little nuisances to leave him alone. These victories brought him no honor and did not fulfil his purpose. He was just slicing at birds! And Brock was back. Good. Rinok had a worthy opponent once again.

"You'll never stop the fighting," Rinok said, smiling. "This war will go on as long as the Kami make their unreasonable demands."

"It'll go on as long as we allow it," Brock said, "and it ends today."

Rinok slung his sword around haphazardly. Brock had no trouble reading his attacks and sidestepping them with the help of his mind's eye.

"Look around you, Rinok," Brock said, leaning just far enough to the left to avoid another swing of his opponent's heavy sword. "Your men are falling by the dozens. How many have already deserted?"

"None!" Rinok shouted. "My men are the best in the land."

"Then why do so many lie in pools of their own blood?" Brock screamed the question. "See reason, man."

"I have reason. My reason is that your world is dying and if you wanted to save it you'd be thanking me," Rinok bellowed in return. He looked around. Where were Vilhelm and Rhyne. Surely they weren't dead. Could Vilhelm even be killed? Well of course he could, he was a vampire not a god.

"My home is just fine," Brock said softly. He charged Rinok, knocking him to the ground with a well-placed shoulder. Kyari's birds circled like vultures, waiting to see which planeswalker would gain the upper hand.

"Retreat!" Rinok cried before planeswalking. He had to find Vilhelm and the sphere for his next attempt to be a success. If Kamigawa didn't appreciate his help, then the world deserved to be destroyed.


	20. Chapter 20

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 19: The Last Battle

Rinok stumbled through the remains of his camp. Vilhelm was nowhere to be found and Rhyne seemed to have disappeared as well.

"Traitors!" he growled, slamming a fist into a tent pole and sending the whole structure tumbling down. How could Rinok have let himself be taken in so? Vilhelm had been playing him from the beginning even as they descended the maze of Xerex together. Did the bond shared between warriors count for nothing to the valorless death drinker? Rinok spit a stray hair from his mouth. His ventures on Kamigawa had failed once again even with the help of powerful allies. The sphere, it seemed, was lost once again. Vilhelm never allowed the artifact out of his sight, and now that Vilhelm was gone Rinok had no method of calling reinforcements.

At last he admitted that his army had been tested too soon. In his battle-fueled zeal Rinok had lost sight of that which he knew to be more important: the purpose of conflict as a plane's salvation from stagnation.

"I suppose," Rinok muttered to himself, "I have not changed as much as I had once thought." He was still the boy raised by the Cult of Rakdos. The base urges of a Thrill Killer still pulsed in his heart and clouded his mind. The conditioned need to bathe in blood, to take lives in order to feel alive, would take more than intense military training to break. Rinok planeswalked, letting the winds of the blind eternities carry him where they would. Surely the world he found could provide him the answers he sought.

0000000

"What do you mean Rinok is nowhere to be found?" Brock asked Souta. The Orochi's military leader merely maintained a steady gaze and flicked his forked tongue into the air.

"I understand you are frustrated, Brock, but we found no trace of him nor any of the accomplices you described."

Brock turned to survey the field, carnage still evident even hours later. Medics, Kyari and Souta's sisters among them, worked tirelessly to save even the soldiers lying on death's door. Every one of them would be necessary in the coming months. With the emperor dead and his oldest son not yet of age to take the throne, the empire existed in an uncertain limbo.

"What happens now?" Brock asked.

"We must rebuild and fight one last battle against those who would use the weakness Rinok created in the empire to further their own agendas." Souta crossed his four arms. "The Orochi and Kitsune under Soft-Ear have resolved to aid the humans in this trying time, lest another man like Rinok rise to cause more strife." Souta glanced to the side where Tamiyo had set up a makeshift desk for recording the morning's events. "The Soratami haven't given us any word on their involvement. In fact, they haven't made a single move since the death of their Patron according to your adoptive mother."

"They're a secretive people," Brock replied, "even among their own."

"It seems strange, though, doesn't it?" Souta asked. "You told me that Rinok values honor on the battlefield, so why would he order a secretive attack on the emperor as he rode away?"

"I also told you I believed his command structure to be fractured. Rinok made plenty of decisions, I'm certain, but his accomplices had their own agendas loosely tied to Rinok's." Brock resolved to pretend he didn't hear Souta implying the Soratami had something to do with the death of Emperor Masahiro.

Souta resolved to pretend he didn't think Brock was an ass for ignoring what stared him in the face.

The human man walked away, keenly aware of the Orochi's serpentine eyes following him. He stood behind his mother, reading her scroll over her shoulder.

"Tamiyo..." he paused, then corrected himself, "Mother, I wanted to ask you about something that happened in the battle."

"If it's about why Kyari and I took to the skies on the back of a moth, we already explained to you that she couldn't let you fight Rinok alone and I wasn't going to let anything happen to my son's partner."

Brock blushed. Were he and Kyari really in some sort of partnership other than just as comrades? He shook his head, regaining his focus. "That's not what I wanted to talk about. During the battle I, well I don't know how to explain it, but it was almost like I saw Rinok's movements before he made them. Something like that's never happened to me before."

"On the contrary," Tamiyo said, shifting position to look her son in the eye. "When you were little sometimes you'd see things, little things, happening before they actually occurred. Once you pushed Genku out of the way of a cup knocked from a shelf by a bird that had gotten in the house."

"So what does it mean? It's not completely accurate, that much is clear since I chased him the wrong way across the battlefield."

"It means that you've got a gift I don't know how to help cultivate. Your intuition might be better described as divination now that you're getting concrete images in the form of visions. I'd suggest returning to the Ojutai for study. It seems the multiverse called you to Tarkir for a reason." Tamiyo smiled sadly.

"They taught me plenty," Brock said. "They taught me that light prison I had Rinok's sword in for a few minutes. I don't really like using it unless I have to, though. Perhaps there are other planes I can visit where divination is studied. I need to help out here first, though. Souta was very clear that we're not out of the woods yet."

"Indeed. The events of this battle will shape the plane for years to come." Tamiyo nodded sagely.

000000

General Yamamori knelt in his tent, sword laid out before him and a smaller knife sitting to the side. He breathed deeply and evenly. The image of his emperor's pain stricken face would not leave his mind. The general had failed in his task to protect Masahiro and for that, he had resolved, he must pay the ultimate price.

The general was completely alone. This task, he felt, was something best done by himself.

When other soldiers found him later, his hands covered his face and a cross shaped cut split his stomach open. The bloodstained knife had been cast to the side. The people of the empire would mourn both their emperor and one of their great generals.

000000

Odom returned to his apartment after a long day of avoiding Zegana's questions in the Zameck Guild Hall to find his home torn apart, almost like a tornado mixed with a ball of fire had streaked through it. Curled up on a singed sofa was a familiar figure sleeping soundly curled around a small silver ball. Odom smiled, gently kissed Ashleigh's soot stained cheek, and scooped the portal sphere into one hand.

"I knew I could count on you, Ash," he said softly, pulling a blanket from the back of the sofa over the slumbering planeswalker.


	21. Chapter 21

AN: So I need to put in a content warning and disclaimer. This chapter features a character in the later stages of an abusive relationship after the first break. If you've been reading this since the beginning, which character it is shouldn't be a surprise, but the way they behave might be. Just leaving is never as easy as it sounds, especially when an abusive partner has convinced you that you need them or made you dependent on them for whatever reason. It requires resources not all people have access to, and leaving is always the most dangerous time for a victim of abuse by a partner. This chapter by no means glorifies abuse and if anything I hope it helps shed light on a misunderstood topic using the metaphors available to me in a fantasy medium. Planar Chaos is a large fic with a lot of diverse characters, not all of whom are necessarily good people and I strive to represent that diversity accurately without exploiting people who have endured similar experiences.

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 20: Return to Ravnica

"Jace!" Ral Zarek called hoarsely. He banged once again on the door to the Living Guildpact's sanctum where the telepath lived with his friends, the Gatewatch. Ral slammed his fist into the door again. "Dammit, Beleren, open the door!"

"You won't find him," a feminine voice said. Ral turned to see Lavinia, Champion of the Azorius and Jace's permanent attaché on Ravnica. As always, she dressed in a full suit of armor, her only ornament a cloak pin bearing the triangular sigil of her guild.

"Then where is he if he isn't up to his eyeballs in paperwork?" Ral's mind raced. Jace had a habit of abandoning his post, and to a greater extent Ral's home, to gallivant off into the sunset playing hero with his friends.

"Jace is away on business with his colleagues," Lavinia said.

Ral grumbled in frustration. Lavinia, like most of the Azorius, gave the bare amount of information necessary to hold a conversation. "I need more than that, Lavinia. We both know what Jace is."

"The Guildpact has departed for Amonkhet."

"Never heard of the place." Ral sighed. He, admittedly, wasn't as well travelled as Jace. His place was on Ravnica. Any other world held nothing for him but disappointment and a renewed feeling that his existence held no meaning.

"He did say something about a great dragon," Lavinia begrudgingly offered.

"That doesn't help me, Lavinia."

"Perhaps if you were to go after him?" Lavinia suggested. "With your shared abilities, it seems logical."

"I can't," Ral said angrily. "If Jace is gone, it falls to me to protect Ravnica."

"Only the Guildpact can-"

Ral cut her off. "Damn Jace and damn the Guildpact, Lavinia. If he'd just kept his nose out of my world's business then I'd be the Guildpact and we wouldn't have this problem!" He caught sight of his reflection warped in Lavinia's breastplate. His red face, wide eyes, black hair with that stupid streak of gray that made him look old, Ral was embarrassed by himself. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "If Jace isn't going to do his job, then I'll just have to do it to the best of my ability. Can you help me?"

Lavinia merely looked at Ral with sorrow in her eyes.

"You can't or you won't."

She didn't answer.

"Lavinia," Ral said, "if the laws prevent you from helping me, that's one thing, but are you going to stop me?"

"I must." Lavinia drew her sword. "Ral Zarek, back away from the sanctum doors or I will be forced to place you under arrest."

"Lavinia, we both want the same thing," Ral said, holding up his hands in as nonthreatening a gesture as he could. "We both want peace and stability on the plane. That cannot be achieved without an acting Guildpact."

"Leave, Ral," Lavinia said coldly.

He had no other choice. Barreling through Lavinia would arouse suspicion, especially if he were to take the same courses of action he'd taken to get here in the first place. This time Ral had to make a plan and stick to it without his destructive brand of improvising.

0000000

Vilhelm discarded his restrictive armor in a rubbish heap, glad to be rid of the heavy garments. His long coat swished around him once more and his skin could finally breathe again, not that it needed to. The sensation of overwhelming heat that existed inside of heavy armor in a warm place was uncomfortable not just to humans but to those more cold-blooded members of society like himself. He fixed his ascot pin bearing the sigil of the Orzhov guild and made his way to Vizkopa and the Church of Deals.

The guards seemed startled when the impeccably dressed Vilhelm appeared at the gates to the main building of the church.

"Sir, you've been gone for quite some time," one of the guards said. Her hand gripping her pike shifted.

"I was away on a special assignment for Lady Teysa and the Obzedat," Vilhelm said, projecting confidence.

The guard who had spoken considered his statement. The close relationship between Vilhelm and Teysa was a topic of gossip among the halls of the Church of Orzhova. Her emotional state after his sudden departure only fueled the rumor mills.

"I'm sure Lady Teysa will be pleased to hear of your return," she stepped aside, allowing Vilhelm entry.

He brushed past thrulls shuffling through the halls running errands and various clerics tallying numbers of souls or amounts of gold or other such nonsense. Vilhelm scoffed at the Ghost Council's materialism. Riches did not provide anything to a spirit without its body or a zombie without its mind. Vampires, on the other hand, experienced an objectively better form of undeath. Everything the ghosts envied and the zombies could no longer comprehend he could enjoy, like Teysa's trembling flesh as he fed on her.

He didn't announce himself before entering her chambers. Surprise, in his opinion, tasted better.

But Vilhelm wouldn't taste surprise. He opened the door to find Teysa, lovely throat exposed, surrounded by a group of Ravnican vampires who balked at her offer.

Vilhelm stretched out a hand and the intruding bloodsuckers crumpled to the ground, barely having time to utter shrieks of mental agony. They would not rise again without Vilhelm's command. He looked at Teysa, sitting with her ankles crossed in her chair, clutching the bodice of her dress to keep it from slipping any lower. He noticed she was trembling. Fear would have to do in place of surprise.

"Teysa," Vilhelm said slowly, adopting a paternalistic tone that failed to veil his cold rage at her betrayal, "what is the meaning of this?" He gestured to the newly created thrall vampires that remained motionless from his lack of commands.

She began to shake even more, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I… I…"

"You…?" Vilhelm took a few steps closer, beckoning her to continue.

"I didn't know when you were coming back," she said, hanging he head.

Vilhelm closed the gap between them, tilting her chin up to look at him. "You lost faith in me, Teysa."

"Faith isn't a part of this church, Vilhelm."

"You betrayed me, Teysa."

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, averting her eyes.

"Look at me," Vilhelm commanded, shifting his grip to her throat. He felt her pulse under his fingers and her ragged, frightened breaths like a cornered animal. "I need to know you'll never do this again."

"I promise."

"Liar," Vilhelm hissed, throwing Teysa from her chair. She landed on her knees.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'll never do it again."

"I don't believe you," Vilhelm growled in her ear. He pulled her up by her hair and shoved her again. She fell against her bed and crumpled.

"I promise, Vilhelm, I promise," she cried, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

He knelt down next to her and took her face in his hands, gently this time. "You have to tell me something. Say it out loud or it won't count. Tell me you belong to me."

"I do," she said, nodding eagerly and smiling. "I belong to you." The tears still came, but she was no longer afraid. She'd survived his anger and proved her loyalty. It was just a test, it had to be. The bodies scattered around the room no longer seemed real to her.

"Now you know what I came here for," he said, smirking a charming smirk. He scooped her up in his arms, stood, and laid her down on her bed. "Don't cry, dear Teysa," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing tears from her face. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay. It was my fault."

Vilhelm smiled wide enough to expose his fangs.

0000000

Marthel breathed in the city air with eager lungs. He'd missed the metropolitan buzz of Ravnica while helping Brock and Kyari on Kamigawa, and it wasn't like they needed him to stay behind and help rebuild after Rinok's meddling. Nadia was pleased at his return as well, but less pleased at his current desires to wander the undercity.

"I don't get why she doesn't like it down here," Marthel muttered. He inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the urban smells that trickled down from the highest reaches to settle here in the domain of Golgari rot farmers and the forgotten Dimir.

He descended further and further, aware of a small shape following him. When he turned to look over his shoulder it would materialize into something innocuous like a snake or large beetle, but when Marthel turned his back he once again heard soft footsteps, almost silent on the carpet of rot and moss. Marthel merely kept going, sure he could take on anything following him. Unlike most mages on this plane, he had a never ending arsenal of spells and skills learned across worlds. What could possibly best a jack of all trades fueled by the power granted a planeswalker?

Deep inside the plane of Ravnica, as with all planes, the heart of the world worked tirelessly to maintain balance both within itself and the multiverse. Ravnica, in particular, had a heart more active in that role since the creation and signing of the Guildpact thousands of years ago. The great magic wrought to keep the guilds in balance penetrated the very core of their world, effecting a change within Ravnica similar to the Conflux of Alara and the altered state of Tarkir, drawing planeswalkers to the world and creating them out of its denizens. The secrets Project Lightning Bug should have revealed to Niv Mizzet had long been known by the heart of Ravnica. It felt the presence of every planeswalker through the leylines, and it monitored them.

Marthel and his unseen tagalong were traveling along the path of one such leyline deeper and deeper into the undercity. Eventually they came out into a pool of sunlight cutting through the city above them. All around them brightly colored stones lay scattered in the grass, the remnants of some long abandoned monument.

The dark skinned planeswalker laid down in the middle of the soft grass, stretching out his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. The shapeshifter following him sighed in disappointment, if beetles could sigh.

"I know you're out there," Marthel said, keeping his eyes closed. "I'm sorry if you're not satisfied with my destination. Not everyone sneaking through the undercity is up to something." The warmth of the sun laid over him like a blanket. Marthel thought perhaps he could take a nap. A rustle of grass told him that his tagalong had departed.

Dahni sighed again, resuming a humanoid form. She opted for female this time, noting that people seemed to view her as less threatening when she was female. Long hair felt nice. It gave her something to play with. She could have long hair when she was male, but thought it made her stand out on the streets of Ravnica. Some elven men kept their hair long, but among humans the customary grooming required short cropped hair. Unless, of course, one was part of the Rakdos and under no circumstances did Dahni want to be mistaken for a member of the Rakdos.

The stranger had led her nowhere. Dahni meandered through the undercity unable to figure out how to report her mission as a failure not just to Lisandra, but to Lazav. The vampire woman's ire could be dealt with, but Lazav had taken Dahni in as a child and Dahni owed him a great debt as a result. One small shapeshifter child meant hardly anything to the rest of Ravnica, but to the Dimir Dahni was an asset. She felt important to them and hated letting Lazav down. She kicked a stone and watched it clatter down the tunnel in front of her before following it and kicking it again.

She wandered kicking the same stone for a while, how long she couldn't tell without the sunlight blocked by the layers and layers of Ravnica's city. Eventually it rattled down a gap in her walkway.

"Shoot," Dahni said, crouching to peer down the hole. Her stone was down there, the opening just wide enough for her arm. She reached in up to her shoulder, fingers brushing against a smooth surface, but unable to grasp it. Then she had a thought.

"I'm a shapeshifter," Dahni laughed, transforming into a vedalken male. The longer limbs of the vedalken race allowed him to grasp the object, larger than the stone he'd been kicking earlier and infinitely more interesting because he didn't know what it was.

Dahni shapeshifted once more, resuming his human female appearance. She would attract less attention down here as a human than a vedalken. They hardly ever entered the undercity, most working with the Azorius Senate or the Simic Combine. She turned the object, a palm sized stone, over in her hands. It glittered in the dim light of the undercity and pulsed with a strange magic. For some reason, Dahni felt it was her destiny to have such an object. She saw her own face reflected in the smooth surface, but then it changed, cycling through other faces she'd never seen and some she had. The elf woman who'd defeated a fully grown Hellkite dragon in the shopping district, the man she'd followed into the undercity, a different man with dark hair and mismatched eyes tending to a bizarre creature made of tree bark and magic, Lisandra, a gray skinned vampire, Ral Zarek and the living Guildpact Jace Beleren.

"Who are all of you," Dahni wondered, "and why are you connected?" She tucked the stone into one of her vest pockets and pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. The ragged edges needed mending, but she'd deal with that when she returned this find to Lazav. Perhaps her mission hadn't been for nothing.

Upon crawling out of the undercity, Dahni was met with a chaotic scene. Azorius justicars herded civilians through the streets, barking orders back and forth to the soldiers of the Boros legions. She hid in the shadows long enough to find an opening, then made a break for another alleyway, one that would lead her back to the Dimir.

"Stop that girl!" one soldier cried. Immediately a justicar's head snapped in Dahni's direction, a detaining spell at the ready. She dove, tumbling into the alleyway and out of sight. Footsteps pounded into the cobbled streets behind her. Dahni turned a corner and immediately became swept up in a crowd of people. She wove her way through the sea of bodies, glancing over her shoulder to see the justicar still tailing her.

"What did I do this time," Dahni muttered to herself. What was even going on? So much chaos was uncharacteristic of the streets of Ravnica in the days since the Guildpact was renewed. Something big had to be going on.

She exited the throng and whipped around another corner, shapeshifting into a male vedalken form again. They were after a human girl, after all. Dahni adopted a smoother gait, heading in the direction of the shopping district.

"You there," the justicar called. Dahni turned to look at him with a quizzical expression.

"Is there something I can help you with, officer?" Dahni asked.

"Did you see a human girl run through here? About five and a half feet tall, black hair, dark cloak?" the justicar huffed, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"She barreled down the alley over there, almost knocked me over," Dahni said, pointing to another alley a few yards away. "May I ask what's going on?"

"Classified information, young man," the justicar said. "All you need to know is to steer clear of the main thoroughfare between New Prahv and Vizkopa."

"Good thing I just need to do some shopping, then," Dahni said, smiling. He turned back towards the shopping district.

"Wait a minute," the justicar said. He scrutinized the back of the vedalken boy's cloak.

"Sir?" Dahni looked over his shoulder.

"How'd your cloak get so torn up?"

Dahni stumbled over his words. "Well, my family doesn't have a lot, and I've had it for a while. It was my older brother's before it was mine, you see, and it's been mended quite a bit, and…" Dahni mentally cursed. He was caught. He knew it.

"Here you go, kid," the justicar said, tossing a few gold coins Dahni's way. "Get yourself something better than that old rag." The justicar turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Dahni ran down the alleyway he'd indicated to the justicar and ducked down a hole that led to House Dimir's main base of operations.

00000000

Odom stood before Niv Mizzet in the dragon's audience chamber. The Firemind's glittering red and blue scales shone all the brighter for his good mood. Next to Odom, Sa'Raah stood proudly, a bright smile on her face.

"Glorious Firemind," Odom said cheerfully, "it brings me great pleasure to present to you the artifact my companion and I have sought. The object is a portal sphere, allowing travel between planes without crossing into the blind eternities."

"The Hellkite broods of the badlands have sworn their complete fealty to you, Dragonlord," Sa'Raah said.

"Excellent," Niv boomed. "The preparations are coming along well, I am sure, Sa'Raah."

"Certainly, Dragonlord. Along with the Hellkites at your command, I can use the sphere to bring in dragons from other planes to help maintain order. They won't be the speechless creatures this plane is familiar with, but beings as splendid as yourself."

"Of course," Odom said, trying to stroke the Firemind's ego as much as possible, "you will remain the most splendid of all the dragons."

"Dear boy," Niv chuckled, "I don't need to be reminded how amazing I am. You're starting to sound like Zarek when he comes to speak with me. That said, neither of you will go unrewarded for your work. As promised, Odom, the leadership of the Simic will be yours with an emphasized focus on restoring the lineage of my great species. Sa'Raah, I'll not forget your contributions either. Your place will be as my exclusive liaison between the draconic regime and the non-dragon population. I look forward to more news of your progress."

Sa'Raah beamed up at Niv Mizzet. He returned her smile with an almost fatherly one of his own.

"What would you like done with the portal sphere in the meantime?" Odom asked.

"Take it into my vault," the Firemind said. "We will carefully guard it until the time is right."

000000

"Dammit, not again," Dahni said, finding himself running through the streets once more. He'd resumed his customary male human form to investigate whatever it was that had caused such a ruckus earlier at Lazav's request. Dahni had found what he'd been looking for, the unresponsive bodies of several vampires who'd formerly worked for the Orzhov. Their minds, it seemed, had been undone and whoever had done it left no marks on the bodies.

"Halt!" a justicar called.

Dahni, to his credit, did not halt. He kept running, but found himself cornered.

"No way out," the justicar said, closing in. Dahni, for whatever reason, gripped the strange stone in his pocket. There had to be a way out. He could change into something, anything, to escape. More logical ideas like a bird or insect fled from his mind and he focused on the creature he'd seen in the stone, the bark elemental with glowing eyes. He reached inside of himself and pulled with his magic, feeling his skin stretching outwards and becoming rougher. Barky protrusions erupted from his face before Dahni felt the transformation faltering. He couldn't do it, but he had to. Dahni pulled again with his magic, willing himself to become the bizarre creature made of wood and stone and roiling mana. He screamed from the pain of stretching himself so thin.

The transformation failed once again and Dahni's magic rebounded onto himself, enveloping him in a bright blast of energy before taking him away to somewhere completely new.


	22. Chapter 22

AN: So I need to put in a content warning and disclaimer. This chapter features a character in the later stages of an abusive relationship after the first break. If you've been reading this since the beginning, which character it is shouldn't be a surprise, but the way they behave might be. Just leaving is never as easy as it sounds, especially when an abusive partner has convinced you that you need them or made you dependent on them for whatever reason. It requires resources not all people have access to, and leaving is always the most dangerous time for a victim of abuse by a partner. This chapter by no means glorifies abuse and if anything I hope it helps shed light on a misunderstood topic using the metaphors available to me in a fantasy medium. Planar Chaos is a large fic with a lot of diverse characters, not all of whom are necessarily good people and I strive to represent that diversity accurately without exploiting people who have endured similar experiences.

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 20: Return to Ravnica

"Jace!" Ral Zarek called hoarsely. He banged once again on the door to the Living Guildpact's sanctum where the telepath lived with his friends, the Gatewatch. Ral slammed his fist into the door again. "Dammit, Beleren, open the door!"

"You won't find him," a feminine voice said. Ral turned to see Lavinia, Champion of the Azorius and Jace's permanent attaché on Ravnica. As always, she dressed in a full suit of armor, her only ornament a cloak pin bearing the triangular sigil of her guild.

"Then where is he if he isn't up to his eyeballs in paperwork?" Ral's mind raced. Jace had a habit of abandoning his post, and to a greater extent Ral's home, to gallivant off into the sunset playing hero with his friends.

"Jace is away on business with his colleagues," Lavinia said.

Ral grumbled in frustration. Lavinia, like most of the Azorius, gave the bare amount of information necessary to hold a conversation. "I need more than that, Lavinia. We both know what Jace is."

"The Guildpact has departed for Amonkhet."

"Never heard of the place." Ral sighed. He, admittedly, wasn't as well travelled as Jace. His place was on Ravnica. Any other world held nothing for him but disappointment and a renewed feeling that his existence held no meaning.

"He did say something about a great dragon," Lavinia begrudgingly offered.

"That doesn't help me, Lavinia."

"Perhaps if you were to go after him?" Lavinia suggested. "With your shared abilities, it seems logical."

"I can't," Ral said angrily. "If Jace is gone, it falls to me to protect Ravnica."

"Only the Guildpact can-"

Ral cut her off. "Damn Jace and damn the Guildpact, Lavinia. If he'd just kept his nose out of my world's business then I'd be the Guildpact and we wouldn't have this problem!" He caught sight of his reflection warped in Lavinia's breastplate. His red face, wide eyes, black hair with that stupid streak of gray that made him look old, Ral was embarrassed by himself. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "If Jace isn't going to do his job, then I'll just have to do it to the best of my ability. Can you help me?"

Lavinia merely looked at Ral with sorrow in her eyes.

"You can't or you won't."

She didn't answer.

"Lavinia," Ral said, "if the laws prevent you from helping me, that's one thing, but are you going to stop me?"

"I must." Lavinia drew her sword. "Ral Zarek, back away from the sanctum doors or I will be forced to place you under arrest."

"Lavinia, we both want the same thing," Ral said, holding up his hands in as nonthreatening a gesture as he could. "We both want peace and stability on the plane. That cannot be achieved without an acting Guildpact."

"Leave, Ral," Lavinia said coldly.

He had no other choice. Barreling through Lavinia would arouse suspicion, especially if he were to take the same courses of action he'd taken to get here in the first place. This time Ral had to make a plan and stick to it without his destructive brand of improvising.

0000000

Vilhelm discarded his restrictive armor in a rubbish heap, glad to be rid of the heavy garments. His long coat swished around him once more and his skin could finally breathe again, not that it needed to. The sensation of overwhelming heat that existed inside of heavy armor in a warm place was uncomfortable not just to humans but to those more cold-blooded members of society like himself. He fixed his ascot pin bearing the sigil of the Orzhov guild and made his way to Vizkopa and the Church of Deals.

The guards seemed startled when the impeccably dressed Vilhelm appeared at the gates to the main building of the church.

"Sir, you've been gone for quite some time," one of the guards said. Her hand gripping her pike shifted.

"I was away on a special assignment for Lady Teysa and the Obzedat," Vilhelm said, projecting confidence.

The guard who had spoken considered his statement. The close relationship between Vilhelm and Teysa was a topic of gossip among the halls of the Church of Orzhova. Her emotional state after his sudden departure only fueled the rumor mills.

"I'm sure Lady Teysa will be pleased to hear of your return," she stepped aside, allowing Vilhelm entry.

He brushed past thrulls shuffling through the halls running errands and various clerics tallying numbers of souls or amounts of gold or other such nonsense. Vilhelm scoffed at the Ghost Council's materialism. Riches did not provide anything to a spirit without its body or a zombie without its mind. Vampires, on the other hand, experienced an objectively better form of undeath. Everything the ghosts envied and the zombies could no longer comprehend he could enjoy, like Teysa's trembling flesh as he fed on her.

He didn't announce himself before entering her chambers. Surprise, in his opinion, tasted better.

But Vilhelm wouldn't taste surprise. He opened the door to find Teysa, lovely throat exposed, surrounded by a group of Ravnican vampires who balked at her offer.

Vilhelm stretched out a hand and the intruding bloodsuckers crumpled to the ground, barely having time to utter shrieks of mental agony. They would not rise again without Vilhelm's command. He looked at Teysa, sitting with her ankles crossed in her chair, clutching the bodice of her dress to keep it from slipping any lower. He noticed she was trembling. Fear would have to do in place of surprise.

"Teysa," Vilhelm said slowly, adopting a paternalistic tone that failed to veil his cold rage at her betrayal, "what is the meaning of this?" He gestured to the newly created thrall vampires that remained motionless from his lack of commands.

She began to shake even more, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I… I…"

"You…?" Vilhelm took a few steps closer, beckoning her to continue.

"I didn't know when you were coming back," she said, hanging he head.

Vilhelm closed the gap between them, tilting her chin up to look at him. "You lost faith in me, Teysa."

"Faith isn't a part of this church, Vilhelm."

"You betrayed me, Teysa."

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, averting her eyes.

"Look at me," Vilhelm commanded, shifting his grip to her throat. He felt her pulse under his fingers and her ragged, frightened breaths like a cornered animal. "I need to know you'll never do this again."

"I promise."

"Liar," Vilhelm hissed, throwing Teysa from her chair. She landed on her knees.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'll never do it again."

"I don't believe you," Vilhelm growled in her ear. He pulled her up by her hair and shoved her again. She fell against her bed and crumpled.

"I promise, Vilhelm, I promise," she cried, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

He knelt down next to her and took her face in his hands, gently this time. "You have to tell me something. Say it out loud or it won't count. Tell me you belong to me."

"I do," she said, nodding eagerly and smiling. "I belong to you." The tears still came, but she was no longer afraid. She'd survived his anger and proved her loyalty. It was just a test, it had to be. The bodies scattered around the room no longer seemed real to her.

"Now you know what I came here for," he said, smirking a charming smirk. He scooped her up in his arms, stood, and laid her down on her bed. "Don't cry, dear Teysa," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing tears from her face. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay. It was my fault."

Vilhelm smiled wide enough to expose his fangs.

0000000

Marthel breathed in the city air with eager lungs. He'd missed the metropolitan buzz of Ravnica while helping Brock and Kyari on Kamigawa, and it wasn't like they needed him to stay behind and help rebuild after Rinok's meddling. Nadia was pleased at his return as well, but less pleased at his current desires to wander the undercity.

"I don't get why she doesn't like it down here," Marthel muttered. He inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the urban smells that trickled down from the highest reaches to settle here in the domain of Golgari rot farmers and the forgotten Dimir.

He descended further and further, aware of a small shape following him. When he turned to look over his shoulder it would materialize into something innocuous like a snake or large beetle, but when Marthel turned his back he once again heard soft footsteps, almost silent on the carpet of rot and moss. Marthel merely kept going, sure he could take on anything following him. Unlike most mages on this plane, he had a never ending arsenal of spells and skills learned across worlds. What could possibly best a jack of all trades fueled by the power granted a planeswalker?

Deep inside the plane of Ravnica, as with all planes, the heart of the world worked tirelessly to maintain balance both within itself and the multiverse. Ravnica, in particular, had a heart more active in that role since the creation and signing of the Guildpact thousands of years ago. The great magic wrought to keep the guilds in balance penetrated the very core of their world, effecting a change within Ravnica similar to the Conflux of Alara and the altered state of Tarkir, drawing planeswalkers to the world and creating them out of its denizens. The secrets Project Lightning Bug should have revealed to Niv Mizzet had long been known by the heart of Ravnica. It felt the presence of every planeswalker through the leylines, and it monitored them.

Marthel and his unseen tagalong were traveling along the path of one such leyline deeper and deeper into the undercity. Eventually they came out into a pool of sunlight cutting through the city above them. All around them brightly colored stones lay scattered in the grass, the remnants of some long abandoned monument.

The dark skinned planeswalker laid down in the middle of the soft grass, stretching out his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. The shapeshifter following him sighed in disappointment, if beetles could sigh.

"I know you're out there," Marthel said, keeping his eyes closed. "I'm sorry if you're not satisfied with my destination. Not everyone sneaking through the undercity is up to something." The warmth of the sun laid over him like a blanket. Marthel thought perhaps he could take a nap. A rustle of grass told him that his tagalong had departed.

Dahni sighed again, resuming a humanoid form. She opted for female this time, noting that people seemed to view her as less threatening when she was female. Long hair felt nice. It gave her something to play with. She could have long hair when she was male, but thought it made her stand out on the streets of Ravnica. Some elven men kept their hair long, but among humans the customary grooming required short cropped hair. Unless, of course, one was part of the Rakdos and under no circumstances did Dahni want to be mistaken for a member of the Rakdos.

The stranger had led her nowhere. Dahni meandered through the undercity unable to figure out how to report her mission as a failure not just to Lisandra, but to Lazav. The vampire woman's ire could be dealt with, but Lazav had taken Dahni in as a child and Dahni owed him a great debt as a result. One small shapeshifter child meant hardly anything to the rest of Ravnica, but to the Dimir Dahni was an asset. She felt important to them and hated letting Lazav down. She kicked a stone and watched it clatter down the tunnel in front of her before following it and kicking it again.

She wandered kicking the same stone for a while, how long she couldn't tell without the sunlight blocked by the layers and layers of Ravnica's city. Eventually it rattled down a gap in her walkway.

"Shoot," Dahni said, crouching to peer down the hole. Her stone was down there, the opening just wide enough for her arm. She reached in up to her shoulder, fingers brushing against a smooth surface, but unable to grasp it. Then she had a thought.

"I'm a shapeshifter," Dahni laughed, transforming into a vedalken male. The longer limbs of the vedalken race allowed him to grasp the object, larger than the stone he'd been kicking earlier and infinitely more interesting because he didn't know what it was.

Dahni shapeshifted once more, resuming his human female appearance. She would attract less attention down here as a human than a vedalken. They hardly ever entered the undercity, most working with the Azorius Senate or the Simic Combine. She turned the object, a palm sized stone, over in her hands. It glittered in the dim light of the undercity and pulsed with a strange magic. For some reason, Dahni felt it was her destiny to have such an object. She saw her own face reflected in the smooth surface, but then it changed, cycling through other faces she'd never seen and some she had. The elf woman who'd defeated a fully grown Hellkite dragon in the shopping district, the man she'd followed into the undercity, a different man with dark hair and mismatched eyes tending to a bizarre creature made of tree bark and magic, Lisandra, a gray skinned vampire, Ral Zarek and the living Guildpact Jace Beleren.

"Who are all of you," Dahni wondered, "and why are you connected?" She tucked the stone into one of her vest pockets and pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. The ragged edges needed mending, but she'd deal with that when she returned this find to Lazav. Perhaps her mission hadn't been for nothing.

Upon crawling out of the undercity, Dahni was met with a chaotic scene. Azorius justicars herded civilians through the streets, barking orders back and forth to the soldiers of the Boros legions. She hid in the shadows long enough to find an opening, then made a break for another alleyway, one that would lead her back to the Dimir.

"Stop that girl!" one soldier cried. Immediately a justicar's head snapped in Dahni's direction, a detaining spell at the ready. She dove, tumbling into the alleyway and out of sight. Footsteps pounded into the cobbled streets behind her. Dahni turned a corner and immediately became swept up in a crowd of people. She wove her way through the sea of bodies, glancing over her shoulder to see the justicar still tailing her.

"What did I do this time," Dahni muttered to herself. What was even going on? So much chaos was uncharacteristic of the streets of Ravnica in the days since the Guildpact was renewed. Something big had to be going on.

She exited the throng and whipped around another corner, shapeshifting into a male vedalken form again. They were after a human girl, after all. Dahni adopted a smoother gait, heading in the direction of the shopping district.

"You there," the justicar called. Dahni turned to look at him with a quizzical expression.

"Is there something I can help you with, officer?" Dahni asked.

"Did you see a human girl run through here? About five and a half feet tall, black hair, dark cloak?" the justicar huffed, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"She barreled down the alley over there, almost knocked me over," Dahni said, pointing to another alley a few yards away. "May I ask what's going on?"

"Classified information, young man," the justicar said. "All you need to know is to steer clear of the main thoroughfare between New Prahv and Vizkopa."

"Good thing I just need to do some shopping, then," Dahni said, smiling. He turned back towards the shopping district.

"Wait a minute," the justicar said. He scrutinized the back of the vedalken boy's cloak.

"Sir?" Dahni looked over his shoulder.

"How'd your cloak get so torn up?"

Dahni stumbled over his words. "Well, my family doesn't have a lot, and I've had it for a while. It was my older brother's before it was mine, you see, and it's been mended quite a bit, and…" Dahni mentally cursed. He was caught. He knew it.

"Here you go, kid," the justicar said, tossing a few gold coins Dahni's way. "Get yourself something better than that old rag." The justicar turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Dahni ran down the alleyway he'd indicated to the justicar and ducked down a hole that led to House Dimir's main base of operations.

00000000

Odom stood before Niv Mizzet in the dragon's audience chamber. The Firemind's glittering red and blue scales shone all the brighter for his good mood. Next to Odom, Sa'Raah stood proudly, a bright smile on her face.

"Glorious Firemind," Odom said cheerfully, "it brings me great pleasure to present to you the artifact my companion and I have sought. The object is a portal sphere, allowing travel between planes without crossing into the blind eternities."

"The Hellkite broods of the badlands have sworn their complete fealty to you, Dragonlord," Sa'Raah said.

"Excellent," Niv boomed. "The preparations are coming along well, I am sure, Sa'Raah."

"Certainly, Dragonlord. Along with the Hellkites at your command, I can use the sphere to bring in dragons from other planes to help maintain order. They won't be the speechless creatures this plane is familiar with, but beings as splendid as yourself."

"Of course," Odom said, trying to stroke the Firemind's ego as much as possible, "you will remain the most splendid of all the dragons."

"Dear boy," Niv chuckled, "I don't need to be reminded how amazing I am. You're starting to sound like Zarek when he comes to speak with me. That said, neither of you will go unrewarded for your work. As promised, Odom, the leadership of the Simic will be yours with an emphasized focus on restoring the lineage of my great species. Sa'Raah, I'll not forget your contributions either. Your place will be as my exclusive liaison between the draconic regime and the non-dragon population. I look forward to more news of your progress."

Sa'Raah beamed up at Niv Mizzet. He returned her smile with an almost fatherly one of his own.

"What would you like done with the portal sphere in the meantime?" Odom asked.

"Take it into my vault," the Firemind said. "We will carefully guard it until the time is right."

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"Dammit, not again," Dahni said, finding himself running through the streets once more. He'd resumed his customary male human form to investigate whatever it was that had caused such a ruckus earlier at Lazav's request. Dahni had found what he'd been looking for, the unresponsive bodies of several vampires who'd formerly worked for the Orzhov. Their minds, it seemed, had been undone and whoever had done it left no marks on the bodies.

"Halt!" a justicar called.

Dahni, to his credit, did not halt. He kept running, but found himself cornered.

"No way out," the justicar said, closing in. Dahni, for whatever reason, gripped the strange stone in his pocket. There had to be a way out. He could change into something, anything, to escape. More logical ideas like a bird or insect fled from his mind and he focused on the creature he'd seen in the stone, the bark elemental with glowing eyes. He reached inside of himself and pulled with his magic, feeling his skin stretching outwards and becoming rougher. Barky protrusions erupted from his face before Dahni felt the transformation faltering. He couldn't do it, but he had to. Dahni pulled again with his magic, willing himself to become the bizarre creature made of wood and stone and roiling mana. He screamed from the pain of stretching himself so thin.

The transformation failed once again and Dahni's magic rebounded onto himself, enveloping him in a bright blast of energy before taking him away to somewhere completely new.


	23. Chapter 23

Planar Choas

Portal Saga

Chapter 22: The Badlands

Sa'Raah stood in the presence of Niv Mizzet once more. The portal sphere sat between them on a pedestal. Its intricate surface glinted in the red and blue light filtering through stained glass windows depicting vanity portraits of the Izzet Guild's leader.

"The time draws near, Envoy of Dragonfire," Niv Mizzet said. The great red dragon ruffled his membranous crest in anticipation. "Are your preparations complete?"

"The dragons of this plane swear their fealty to you alone, Dragonlord," Sa'Raah responded.

"What of your compatriot, the Dragonsinger?"

"She refuses to share her knowledge, but I understand you have taken care of that?"

"Indeed. Certain forces in this world can be hired. Tell me the guilds of Ravnica, child."

"The Izzet League, Azorius Senate, Simic Combine, Boros Legion, Orzhov Syndicate, Rakdos, Golgari Swarm, Gruul, and the Selesnya Conclave." She stumbled over the names, forgetting proper titles of those she didn't interact with.

"And House Dimir," Niv Mizzet said smugly. "I have a working relationship with them and they have in their membership a few special individuals who may be of assistance."

Outside the door to Niv Mizzet's audience chamber a frantic Ral Zarek paced back and forth, aware that all this stress was just contributing to the gray at his temple. The dragon was a fool, believing himself to be above all else, and Ral spat at fools. He longed for the day he could squish Niv Mizzet's flat, toadlike head underfoot. A dragon would change Ravnica, but it wouldn't be this dragon.

Ral did the only thing that was healthy for him. He returned to his chambers and was surprised to find a man in a dark cloak with thick gray twists of hair and an eerie light in his eyes waiting for him. The man raised one hand, more of a metallic claw, and shushed Ral ominously. Ral held himself still, the only sound coming from the apparatus he wore to power his gauntlet.

"You seem surprised. Are you alone?" the man asked.

"Yes, Tezzeret. I wasn't expecting you today, though." Ral began to breathe again.

"Will we have any problems?"

"I can assure you I'm handling it as swiftly as possible."

"You know you're on a time crunch, right, Zarek?"

"After your failure on Kaladesh to secure a functional portal I don't see what threat an army of zombies poses to Ravnica."

Tezzeret began to laugh. "You honestly think that was our employer's end goal?" He doubled over, clutching at his stomach and wheezing. "Ral, you naïve child!"

Ral waited for Tezzeret to right himself. "Don't leak oil on my carpets, please. I'm hoping to get the security deposit back."

Tezzeret's laughter died down and he let out a contented sigh. "I don't think I've laughed that hard since the last time I died. In all seriousness, Ral, our employer has more moving pieces to his plan than your puny mind could fathom. A hiccup in one area can be rectified with minor tweaks to another. Expect everything to progress as planned until I contact you again."

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Lisandra shadowed the old viashino woman's every move, making sure to stay just far enough away to keep from arousing suspicion. The shopping districts of Ravnica moved in a fairly linear pattern through the winding paths between different booths. The viashino looked over her shoulder and Lisandra ducked behind a shopkeeper, feigning interest in one of their wares before resuming her hunt. A specific piece of information this viashino knew was of great interest to House Dimir's employer.

Mirko would not be accompanying her on this mission. Lisandra's skills not only surpassed his, but she drew far less attention after Mirko took the mantle of Maze Runner for the Dimir. Anonymity was Lisandra's greatest strength, and even Lazav had to agree she was the best for the job following the unexpected absence of Dahni, the shapeshifter prodigy Lazav had found on the streets.

Where was the child? Lisandra spent more and more time wondering about this each day. Of course, Lazav wouldn't tell her if he'd sent them on a secret mission. The Dimir kept secrets even from themselves. Perhaps, then, she should keep the outcome of this mission between herself and their employer.

She followed the viashino down a dead-end alley. The old lizard woman turned to face Lisandra.

"I thought someone might be here for me. Who sent you? The dragon? His lackeys?" Her gravelly voice remained steady even as the unmistakable power of a planeswalker lit up her eyes. "You'll never get the song from me."

Lisandra remained silent. She focused on skimming the surface of this planeswalker's mind for an entrance, but found none. Whatever secret she tried to protect was important enough to her that she'd obviously spent years shoring her mental defenses.

"I told that little snip Sa'Raah to shove off," the viashino grumbled to herself. Her tail swept back and forth rhythmically. Kraasta reached towards the vampire girl standing in front of her. "If you know what's good for you, you'll back off."

"I have a job to do," Lisandra said.

"Whatever Mizzet's paying you I'll pay you double," Kraasta responded.

Lisandra's left eyebrow arched. "I'm listening."

"What he wants for Sa'Raah she can't hope to control. She can't even fathom what she's asked of me. What she has now could sunder this plane and if she adds my power then everything ever created is at risk."

"This is about that psycho dragon-girl?" Lisandra asked. She recalled her misadventure in the Maze of Xerex with Sa'Raah, Odom, Marthel, and their companions.

"Of course it is," Kraasta growled. "Why else would she want my dragonsong?"

"Okay. I don't care about your song, tell me what she's planning and how I can stop it. This plane needs to stay exactly the way it is. I'm not having a misguided dragon-archy crop up. My guild wouldn't survive that."

"She's planning on raising a massive dragon army and taking over in the name of Niv Mizzet."

"Of course." Lisandra rolled her eyes. The hubris of Niv Mizzet was well known to the Dimir. In fact, it made him one of their best customers.

The aged viashino narrowed her eyes at the vampire standing in front of her. "I need to know I can trust you."

"I don't believe you're in a position to be demanding my trust, old woman." Lisandra sized up the viashino. She stood with a noticeable slump, more pronounced than lizardfolk in their prime. Her skin hung loosely around her eyes and neck, wobbling back and forth with her movements. She leaned heavily on a wooden staff adorned with shamanic charms and wore simple robes that would be less out of place in the Gruul badlands than in the cityscape of Ravnica proper.

"Physical is not the only strength. Surely you know that," Kraasta hissed. Her staff struck the ground and she began mumbling in the dragons' mother tongue. This language that had made its way across all planes from Dominaria held power even here on this world of cobbled streets and law magic burned into its very heart. The ground below their feet began to rumble and cobblestones cracked loudly in preparation for the creature surging upwards. An armored head followed by a tough, dirt-caked body erupted from the earth. It pained Kraasta to summon a lowly wurm to her aid, but they were children of the Elder Land Wurms, losers in the ancient dragon war but dragons just the same.

Lisandra stumbled back, eyes wide and mind years ago. The wurm's golden head armor, too disjointed to really be called a helmet, bore the sigil of the Selesnya Conclave. A similar creature had busted through the street and blocked her path when the guild had finally tracked their lost daughter to Duskmantle.

"My cousin will not harm you unless I tell her," Kraasta said to the cowering vampire woman. "I simply need to know that I can trust you to help me."

"Fine," Lisandra spat, knowing she'd been bested but determined to keep the viashino in the dark as to why. "You can trust me."

"Good, then come along, deary," Kraasta adopted a more grandmotherly tone. She shooed the confused wurm back into her hole and kicked a few stones closer to the opening. "We need to get a move on to the badlands. They're no place for an old woman like me to go alone." She turned and began walking without checking to see if Lisandra would follow, tail dragging along behind her.

0000000

"Dear, sweet Teysa," Vilhelm purred coldly, "I'm afraid I have to leave you again."

She lay still except for her fluttering eyelids and heaving chest. The telltale scars from Vilhelm's fangs were no longer confined to just her neck, but anywhere her customary style of clothing could easily cover. This was at Teysa's behest, of course. At least she thought it was. Vilhelm had been the one to initiate such a blend of physical intimacy and feeding and found it kept his delightfully floral benefactor more compliant.

The scandal of the mindless vampires found outside the Syndicate's main headquarters, a shrine to some forgotten god who'd been replaced with the almighty gold coin, was swiftly forgotten when a new piece of gossip made its rounds through the sprawling city. The Azorius Senate was preparing arrest warrants for certain members of the Simic Combine under the charges of illegal experimentation. Vilhelm had his own theories as to whom the warrant referred. A certain gelatinous mage keeping an extraplanar elemental in his probably illegal basement featured in most of them.

Vilhelm exited onto the city streets looking just as well put together as ever. His Syndicate coat maintained perfect creases and each stray thread had been snipped during its biweekly inspection. The onyx in his ascot pin, a miniature representation of the eclipsed sun that was the newer Orzhov guild sigil, shone with its black inner light. He still saw some members walking around with old pins that were solid silver, and liked to keep a note of who wore what pin as a reminder of seniority within the guild. Vilhelm's pale hair had been pulled into a conservative horsetail. For all intents and purposes, he appeared the exact opposite of the sort of man who turned his guild's leader into a whimpering mess begging for death or sex or both. Vilhelm smirked to himself. Karlov and the other ghosts had caught Teysa going into their vaults and being aided by Tajic of the Boros and the Guildpact himself to do so. They thought they kept her on a short enough leash, but all it had done was drive her right into Vilhelm's arms and his teeth into her throat. It was Vilhelm that now held power over the Orzhov's Envoy of Ghosts and he hadn't even had to erase her psyche to do so.

His long strides carried him through the streets of Ravnica following vague scent trails. His mouth watered even though he'd fed mere hours before, but this hunt was not for food. Today he hunted an elf girl who had no business being on this plane. Her scent carried him towards the edges of Ravnica's city and into the Gruul Badlands.

The Gruul Badlands, primarily comprised of the ruined Rubblebelt and Utvara, were not a place for a man of Vilhelm's standing and style. They reminded him far too much of the overgrown world of Naya where he'd first found that pesky elf girl and tried to use her as a thrall to fight a dragon from Jund. He scowled at his failure, for it had been that event that caused her ascension to his level of power.

On some level, he mused, Sa'Raah's actions were his fault. Any of the other Cylian elves present that day would have made a decent enough thrall and distracted the dragon long enough for him to escape. In his haste Vilhelm had chosen an unsuitable slave, one with a planeswalker's spark hiding inside her. That mistake would be rectified and he would be capable of continuing his plan for a perfect world in peace.

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"This is the right way?" Sa'Raah asked Marthel as he led her through the Rubblebelt.

"There isn't really a 'right way' away from civilization," Marthel grumbled. "Why am I helping you with this again?"

"Because Ashleigh's still out of commission after your adventure on Kamigawa," Sa'Raah replied. Upon learning from Odom that her friend had returned, an event that took place long after the fact due to the scatterbrained nature of the Voidcaller's significant other.

"And why is Odom not helping you with this? He actually likes hanging out with these guys on the days they don't decide he's a civilization-loving shill."

"Because he's busy, and you're the only other friend I have on this plane."

"What about Nadia?"

"I am not her friend," the irritated angel said matter-of-factly from behind them. Flying would be more efficient, but it also brought more attention from the creatures living on the ground. She chose to walk.

"Yes you are," Marthel said, tossing his locs out of his face. "Hey, Nadia, do you have a-"

He was cut off by the angel thrusting a leather cord into his hand.

"Thanks," Marthel said warmly.

"You may thank me when I finish installing sound-proofing materials to your bedroom walls."

"Okay, Marthel, do I wanna know?" Sa'Raah asked.

"You know how angels are all female?" Marthel replied.

"Yeah, so?"

"Ever thought about how they reproduce?"

"We do not," Nadia answered the question Marthel was attempting to goad Sa'Raah into asking. "As the physical embodiment of the ideals of nobility and purity, some aspects of your mortal lives make us uncomfortable."

The smell of rust and fire hung in the air as the trio pushed deeper and deeper into the overgrown and forgotten part of Ravnica. These last vestiges of the wild lay over the reclaimed ruins of civilization like a blanket. Burned out structures loomed in the distance as the undergrowth tore at their clothes, trying to restrain them from trekking further into a place that was obviously not meant for them.

This is perfect, Sa'Raah thought. It truly was the perfect place to summon her dragon army, away from the Azorius Senate's watchful eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 23: Screwing Up

Sa'Raah returned to the Rubblebelt once more, this time accompanied by Odom. The Portal Sphere rested against her armored hip in a rucksack.

"Why am I even coming with you again?" Odom asked, irritation plain in his voice. The brambles snagged at his blue, red, and green guildrobes. "You know that thing makes me nervous." Odom stayed several feet behind Sa'Raah, constantly keeping an eye on the artifact she carried.

"The Izzet work with artifice and you're the only one Dragonlord Mizzet said I could borrow."

"Yeah but…" Odom trailed off. Niv Mizzet had to be angry with him for taking so long to deliver the portal sphere. He was going to be dragon food, not the leader of the Simic. Maybe it was time for a change of setting or change of career or an extended vacation. He knew of a plane with nice hot springs he could hide out on with Ash to help speed along her recovery.

The duo pressed on in silence. Behind them to their left an angel and her planeswalker partner crept through the wilderness as observers. Behind them to their right a vampire stalked his escaped prey. Straight behind them, following their path, another planeswalker frantically scrambled through the abandoned wilds of Ravnica in a vain attempt to stop everything that would occur that day.

"We're here!" Sa'Raah cried triumphantly. She raced over the hill, leaving Odom's more academic frame huffing and puffing behind her. As she crested the hill, the sun caught her golden hair spilling out behind her like a banner. A loud cacophony of dragon cries met her, and she threw her arms wide at the joy of it all. "Mother," Sa'Raah muttered, "we're going to succeed in this world." She held the portal sphere aloft and was met with chanting of her name in the ancient dragon tongue.

"Sa'Raah! Sa'Raah! Sa'Raah!" They punctuated each chant with plumes of fire.

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Kraasta banged on what appeared to be an abandoned building in one of Ravnica's winding alleyways. The aged viashino woman's scales had taken on an ashen appearance. "I'm looking for Lisandra," she said between spates of pounding on the dry-rotted wood with her staff.

Lisandra appeared after some time. "I told you never to contact me here, that I would come to you when our job was finished."

"We don't have time. Can't you feel the dragons stirring?"

"No?" Lisandra raised an eyebrow. She reached out with her magic and danced over the surface of the viashino woman's mind. She found extreme distress, like Kraasta was being pulled in many different directions and stretched too thin for her elderly frame. "But you have?"

Kraasta nodded vigorously. She raised her staff in a battle stance. "You know why. You found it didn't you?"

"What?" Lisandra's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't been able to break Kraasta's mental shield yet, possibly due the draconic stubbornness the older planeswalker possessed. Had another operative been dispatched on her same mission? She wouldn't put it past Lazav. He often pitted members of House Dimir against one another to improve results for the guild. She pulled Kraasta out of the alleyway and back into the throng. There would be more observers in the large crowd, but numbers brought a measure of anonymity. Lisandra didn't look out of place with her hood up on this bright day either. "Kraasta, I can assure you I haven't reneged on our agreement."

The viashino stared at the vampire's cold eyes and must have liked what she saw. "Stirring is an understatement. Something big is happening, and I know Sa'Raah is behind it. She may not have the dragonsong but she may not need it."

"Where do we need to go?"

"Out side the city. The vibrations of the wurms will lead us."

Under Kraasta's feet, the Selesnya's wurms burrowed with haste against the commands of their masters. She sensed their eagerness for the freedom Sa'Raah's insanity would provide them but Kraasta knew it would inevitably lead to destruction. When dragons fought nothing remained to sustain them.

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Ral yanked tangling vines out of his gauntlet. The presence of the weaponized mizzium multi-tool seemed to insult the Rubblebelt. He let out a string of frustrated curses that was punctuated by a single loud oath when he felt the tip of a knife against his back.

"You're too reckless Ral Zarek of the Izzet," Vilhelm purred. "What's stopping me from killing you right here?"

"Nothing," Ral relented. He'd been caught, too focused on his target to see who could possibly be following his own trail.

"You are correct, however we seem to have a similar goal in mind: the elimination of the elf girl Sa'Raah." Vilhelm kept the knife at Ral's back and rested one hand on the other planeswalker's shoulder. "Perhaps we should work together? It will be much easier if you agree."

"I suppose you have a point," Ral said cautiously. He thought he recognized the voice of this man as that of a lowly Orzhov debt collector, one of their vampiric employees. "What's in it for you?"

"I get my revenge on her for daring to evade me. You get to live and prevent whatever her childish mind has brought about." Vilhelm let his magic snake up Ral's spine, spreading over the back of the younger man's skull. Instead of wrapping around Ral's mind and dominating it to his will, Vilhelm felt his magic rebound. For an instant he had the image of a golden dragon pharaoh burned into his eyelids. Bolas. Ral was working for Bolas and as such untouchable to Vilhelm's magic.

"Okay. I think I have a plan," Ral said.

"Leave that to me," Vilhelm responded. "I've been hunting this girl for years."

"She isn't alone," Ral said in protest.

"I've had dealings with the pathetic excuse for a mage she has with her," Vilhelm said haughtily. "Whatever he may think of, I am perfectly capable of countering."

"Odom is unpredictable, though."

"He is of no concern. You overestimate his capabilities. This is what we will do…"

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"Nadia why can't we fly again?" Marthel groaned.

"The creatures of the Gruul badlands are notable for hunting flying prey. We draw less attention to ourselves down here. I dislike this mode of transportation more than you do, Marthel, however this is what we have to do."

"You're just mad at me for coming into the kitchen without pants on aren't you?"

Nadia blushed deeply, a shade of red almost as dark as her hair. Her wings bristled with aggravation. "I have asked you before to respect my boundaries surrounding yourself and your guests remaining fully clothed in my presence. I have chosen to forgive you due to your intoxicated state at the time and caution you to avoid excessive alcohol intake in the future."

"Look, Nadia, I know I can be a jerk, but I'm sorry." Marthel stopped his advance, turned around, and caught the angel in a bear hug. "You put up with a lot of my crazy shit, and I really appreciate it."

"You aren't trying to do anything stupid when we confront Sa'Raah, are you?" Nadia asked, feeling a single tear prick her eye. Marthel had brought all the weapons he could feasibly carry, which struck Nadia as odd if he intended to use reason rather than force to convince Sa'Raah to reconsider bringing her dragon army at this exact instant. Ravnica had an uneasy balance, but it was balance nonetheless. The continued absence of the Living Guildpact was beginning to wear on guild leaders, making them more desperate or in some cases crueler. Gateless angels noted a changing energy in the Golgari Swarm, the only guild that would associate with the guildless those angels guarded from exploitation.

Marthel pulled back from Nadia and smiled at her. "Dragons are unpredictable. I need to be prepared for anything."

"I agree," Nadia replied. They continued onward towards the hill Sa'Raah stood atop with her hair waving like a battle standard. Not for the first time, Nadia thought the dragon girl would have made an excellent angel if she'd been born on Bant. Her ability to inspire others was a skill valued among the heroic and exalted beings that were Nadia's sisters.

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"The time has come," Sa'Raah began in the ancient dragon tongue. She put on her helmet, the dragon face constructed of her mother's shed scales in the same manner as the rest of her armor created the illusion of a bipedal dragon. "We will tear down the guilds and create a glorious empire of dragons! This world will be yours to rule as is your divine right as descendants of the great Elder Dragons of old!"

The dragon chorus of voices grew frantic. Sa'Raah raised the Portal Sphere high once more, this marvel of technology constructed by the ancient artificer Urza during his war with Phyrexians would be the key to overrunning planes with dragons, the apex predator of the multiverse. "You will be united with your brothers and sisters from across worlds and join into an unstoppable force with infinite worlds to pay tribute to your might!"

Marthel, crouching in the bushes a few hundred yards away, reached out to Odom with his limited telepathy.

Dude, what the hell?

She bullied me into this, man, I'm gonna be dragon food instead of Simic guildleader. And that sphere makes me nervous.

Just don't touch it. You might blow it up on accident.

I hope not. The last thing I need is to be shot somewhere again.

Can you get away?

Let's see, several hundred pairs of eyes, large snouts good at smelling, and wings so they can overtake me. No, I don't think I can get away.

Marthel fumbled with several of the many necklaces around his neck. Their stones were enchanted to produce mana in a manner similar to guild signets.

Hold still, Odom. I'm going to try something.

Marthel fired off two spells in quick succession, the first spell would swap his and Odom's locations. The second spell, which would resolve before the first, made him take on Odom's appearance.

"I can't believe that worked," Odom breathed.

Nadia furrowed her brow. "You need to change your appearance as well for this to work. Make yourself look like Marthel."

While Nadia helped Odom with his Marthel impression, Marthel stood quietly behind Sa'Raah, looking for his opening.

"Um… Sa'Raah, a word?"

"What is it, Odom," Sa'Raah said, looking over her shoulder. She did not notice Marthel's hastily put together illusion. "We're kind of busy."

"Why did Niv Mizzet send me again? We're all familiar with my track record when it comes to artifice."

"He wanted a guild representative, I guess."

"And what's this about destroying the guilds? Wasn't I promised the Simic?"

"Guilds have no place in a world ruled solely by dragons."

"I kind of have to disagree with that on principle."

"You aren't going to betray me, are you?" Sa'Raah asked, turning to face the disguised Marthel.

"What? Never. Here, give me the sphere, I'll open it for you to prove it." Marthel stammered trying to match Odom's speech patterns.

"Nice try. You hate this thing. You just want to destroy it." Sa'Raah turned back to the dragons and descended towards them while pressing buttons on the artifact.

"Shit," Odom said. "This isn't working. Nadia, what do we do?"

"We go, pretend you're Marthel, and behave as her allies." The angel stood and strode out confidently. She rounded the hill from the east. "Hail, Daughter of Dromoka."

"Nadia?" Sa'Raah said in alarm. "Is Marthel with you?"

"He tarries. Meeting the draconic host is a momentous occasion to him and he wants his appearance to reflect that. It has been some time since he saw the dragons of Tarkir."

"I thought you would be wholly against this?" Sa'Raah gestured to her cheering crowd of dragons with a sweeping arm.

"I am loyal to Marthel alone," the angel responded. "Besides, was it not I who carried you from the tower when you secured the fealty of the hellkite clans?"

Sa'Raah had to admit that the angel was correct. "I welcome you as allies."

A bolt of energy shot out of the distance. Nadia leapt in front of Sa'Raah, blocking the wildly arcing magic with her divine blade. Her angelic eyes saw Ral Zarek, champion of the Izzet League, standing in the distance with his arm raised to fire another blast. His body trembled with anger or fear, possibly both. The apparatus on his arm had smoke pouring out of its opening. It seemed to the angel that the man had gotten more gray since she last saw him on the streets of the vast city-world.

"Zarek," Nadia hissed to Sa'Raah. "Put the sphere away, child, for now we must fight."

"I've almost got it working," Sa'Raah protested, her hands flying over the mechanical orb. She cried out an order in the dragon's language for them to attack. The sky filled with leathery wings beating gusts of wind down on the angel, elf, and other humanoids in their midst.

Ral's eyes widened to the point of pain. "What do we do now? I missed and the dragons are coming."

"Leave that to me. You must contact the Azorius or the Boros about a large gathering of dragons in the Rubblebelt heading towards the city." Vilhelm rolled his eyes at Ral's incompetence.

"I can't run. I need that sphere."

"I will acquire the sphere, you are useless to this plan now that your one gimmick has been shown ineffective."

"You're the one who didn't count on the angel," Ral retorted.

"A minor setback. I've dealt with her before as well. She is incredibly loyal to her master. Attack him, she remains distracted. He is the dark man with long hair wound into thick cords."

"Shouldn't I stay behind and help you attack?"

"We do things my way. Contact the armed forces or the law first, whoever you feel more comfortable with because they're frankly the same at this point." Vilhelm left in a blur, making a beeline for Sa'Raah. With all the chaos, Nadia should be retreating to Marthel's side like a good little familiar.

Sa'Raah's own enhanced senses let her see Vilhelm's approach. "Vampire on your nine o'clock," she warned Nadia. The angel turned to meet Vilhelm but he breezed around her as she felt her wings grow sluggish.

"You dare escape again, dragon girl?" Vilhelm spat, his hand reaching out for Sa'Raah's helmet. She pulled out her sword but he made contact, knocking her backwards. She quickly tucked the portal sphere back into her rucksack and took up a defensive position.

Vilhelm carried no weapons. His entire goal was to erase the mind of this pathetic elf who couldn't be bothered to do as she'd been told and follow his plans for a perfect world. Sa'Raah deftly defended his unarmed strikes, batting his hands away with the flat of her blade as she desperately looked for an opening.

Odom remained in the bushes, cowering. This whole scenario was far beyond anything he'd ever even thought about. In fact, he had signed up for the exact opposite of this: a cushy office job as leader of the Simic where he could experiment to his heart's content on company time. He had signed up for a negative amount of what was going on outside his bushes. He saw Vilhelm appear out of nowhere, Ral wildly shooting his souped up staticaster, and Marthel standing at the top of the hill disguised as him jus watching it all go down.

Odom, dude, try to get the sphere from her.

What? Are you crazy, Marthel? I told you I'm not touching that thing.

It's the only way. I'm surveying the battlefield right now. We've got Gruul clans closing in from the south and a flight of Boros angels escorting justicars from the west. She opens that portal and it'll be chaos.

Don't you like chaos?

You're thinking of your girlfriend, whose preferred brand is a cacophonous pandemonium if we want to be nitpicky. I like balance, and Ravnica is in balance right now.

I don't want to.

C'mon, man, be a hero. I know you have it in you somewhere.

Odom had never considered being a hero before. His typical brand of adventuring involved scholarly pursuits, sample gathering, and occasionally providing support for his Broster Strudel, Maelstrom Wanderer.

That was it. Odom dug his hands into the earth, pulling out the mana needed to summon Maelstrom to his side. The elemental began to appear as a wavery, shadowy form that gradually solidified. He towered over everything on the battlefield and let out a loud rumble that sounded like a mix between a roar and an earthquake.

"Gimme some cover, buddy," Odom said as he dashed out still disguised as Marthel.

"Sa'Raah," the disguised Marthel shouted down to her, "I pulled out Maelstrom. He's giving Marthel some cover. Get him the sphere so we can get it to safety."

"Ha! I knew you were on my side!" Sa'Raah laughed, fishing out the sphere from her rucksack as Vilhelm's strikes came faster and faster. "Marthel, catch!" She lobbed the sphere in the direction of who she believed to be the dark-skinned planeswalker.

Vilhelm noticed that Nadia had not made any changes in her current pattern, which was keeping various dragons and stray blasts of magic from hitting her planeswalker allies. This Marthel held no special interest for her, meaning he had to be an imposter. His realization came just too late as the fake Marthel jumped into the air and brought his hands together hard on the portal sphere, releasing a bright blast of light. The dragons in the air began flying into each other, unable to see. Several dropped to the ground with hard thuds that could be felt across the battlefield.

Marthel stood atop the hill, the illusion of being Odom dropped completely as he turned to make his hasty retreat. Nadia followed suit, guiding her friend with her angelic sight.

Sa'Raah's eyes took a moment to recover from the bright light. Vilhelm lay on the ground clutching his eyes and shrieking obscenities at Sa'Raah. Beyond the downed vampire was a smoldering patch of grass containing a few metal bits and sprockets, but nothing more. Maelstrom Wanderer nudged the blackened earth and let out a wail of sadness as it faded out of this plane and back to its home on Alara.

0000000

It was Odom's turn to appear in his apartment covered in soot. This time he held the broken pieces of the portal sphere. Parts were disintegrated entirely and he wasn't sure how they would ever fit back together.

Ashleigh came out of the kitchen upon his arrival carrying a plate filled with some sort of noodle dish. "Sweetie, I'm glad you're home. I just finished dinner. Have a seat and I'll-" she stopped abruptly when she noticed Odom's disheveled and blackened appearance. "What did you do?"

"Babe, I know you made dinner and I know it's probably delicious, but we need to leave this plane right now."

She had vanished into the kitchen again, this time reemerging with a covered pot. "I'm not letting this go to waste. Where are we going?"

"Ever been to Acornum?"


	25. Chapter 25

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 24: Escape from Ravnica

Sa'Raah stared at the battlefield around her. She felt hot rage surge up inside her. She longed to fight. She needed to bring the terror of draconic rule down on these lesser creatures, to make the streets of this city-world run red with their blood. These were the things she wanted, however they were not the things she would do. Her mother had taught her the merits of a strategic retreat. The sphere was gone, blown up the instant it touched Marthel's hands. The artifact must have been too unstable. With her ace in the hole gone, she returned to her mother's side rather than reporting to Niv Mizzet her failures.

As she prepared to planeswalk she felt a cold hand close around her ankle, chilling her through the dragon scale armor. She kicked instinctively, shaking Vilhelm's grasp before the blind eternities swallowed her whole and carried her away to the deserts of Tarkir and her mother, Dromoka.

Vilhelm cursed, still clutching his eyes with one hand. Vision was slowly returning, but not quick enough. He needed to hide somewhere the Boros angels and Azorius justicars wouldn't find him, but was too weakened from the bright light of the blast to planeswalk. As he lay on the ground moaning in pain, chains were slapped around his wrists.

"A debt collector?" a voice asked, pulling at Vilhelm's collar to better view the Orzhov signet pinning his ascot in place.

"Throw him in with the rest, armored transports will be here soon. Let the Church of Deals claim him if they want him back."

"Teysa," Vilhelm sputtered.

"What was that, bloodsucker?"

"Tell Lady Teysa I am in your custody. I was attacked and dragged here against my will."

"Likely story."

"It's true, I insist you contact her at once," Vilhelm replied, fixing one of the justicars who so rudely manhandled him with his gaze.

"We'll talk to her when we get back to the city." Vilhelm was dragged to a pile of other rabble-rousers, Gruul clansmen who came to fight the dragons invading their territories. Those dragons now fought with angels in an aerial battle.

Vilhelm's journey inside the armored transport was uneventful. Befitting a man of his station, he was transported by himself with a handful of guards.

"What do you know about what happened out there? We haven't had an uprising like that in a while," one of the guards asked. This one was younger, kinder.

"I was attacked and woke up out there," Vilhelm responded mechanically.

"Vampires can sleep?"

"We can be knocked unconscious, yes. Hit anything hard enough on the head and it'll stop moving for a while."

"Oh. Okay."

Teysa was waiting for him when the transport stopped outside of the basilica, flanked by a pair of ghosts.

"Vilhelm," she said, breathless but firm. She leaned heavily on her cane, but he saw her pulse fluttering in her throat. It wasn't exhaustion that took her breath, even though that's what she presented.

"My lady," Vilhelm said, kneeling. He directed his gaze to the justicars standing to the side. "Could you perhaps remove these? Can't you see Lady Teysa needs an arm to rest on?"

They hastily removed his chains. Vilhelm stood to his full height, passing through the ghosts to offer Teysa his arm. She took it gratefully, leaning on him heavily.

"You will have some explaining to do. The Obzedat would like a word."

Vilhelm met eyes with every ghost they passed in the halls of the great basilica of the Church of Deals. They moved as a unit closer to the center of the church and the shrine abandoned by Orzhova, a god who was long dead if it had ever existed at all.

"My Lady, I have nothing to hide. I was attacked in the streets while on a mission for the Church and awoke in the field with my eyesight burned away by a bright light. I can only assume I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Vilhelm worked to make his voice sincere. He saw in her face that Teysa believed him.

A ghost whispered something in her ear. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "The Obzedat has specifically forbidden the practice of advokism within Church Walls. I cannot extract the truth from him in such a manner. However, I believe Vilhelm's account of events. He has never let us down as a debt collector before."

00000000

While Vilhelm pled his case to the ghosts, Ral snuck into the chambers of Niv Mizzet.

"Oh great Mizzet," he said, almost gagging on the words, "your dragon-girl's plans have failed. The device is destroyed beyond recovery."

"Oh, Ral," the great red dragon said absentmindedly, "it is of no concern. I have other plans in the works. I always do. Tell me, where is Odom? I wish to speak with him."

"Possibly dead. The device was destroyed by an explosion the likes of which hasn't been seen since the last incident in which he was involved."

"I warned her to never let the boy touch artifacts. They mix like exploding salt and water." Niv sighed. "I did like him, too. His spellcraft and biomass experiments added a bit of extra flair to the guild."

Ral exited, returning to his apartment to once again find Tezzeret sitting in his easy chair.

"Did you take care of it?" Tezzeret asked.

Ral nodded.

000000000

"Nadia, I think it's time we take a vacation from this plane," Marthel said to his angel companion. "Do me a favor and drop a check for the next few months' rent, cancel my appointments, and pick up my drycleaning."

"Do it yourself," Nadia said, nursing a singed wing. "Marthel, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking 'oh shit, this is gonna be so fucked up, what do I do?'"

"You put everyone in danger with your harebrained scheme this time. In serious danger."

"I didn't know you cared so much," Marthel said sarcastically.

"Will you get your head out of your ass for five seconds and stop dancing through life like you think everything will work out in the end? Sometimes it doesn't!"

Marthel's jaw dropped. "Nadia… you just cussed at me."

"Yeah. I did. You're a fucking idiot, you know that? So you go and do your errands yourself, then get us off this forsaken plane. Get us somewhere that won't make me watch you keep corrupting yourself. What happened to the hero I chose as my champion years and years ago when our home was at war? What happened?"

Marthel hung his head, locs falling in his face. He didn't bother pulling them back again. "Nadia, I'm sorry."

"You don't mean it. You wouldn't mean it if you'd killed Sa'Raah or Odom, and they're your friends." Nadia was in tears now. Marthel had never seen an emotional display from her on this level before.

Marthel opened his mouth to retort, But Nadia cut him off.

"I know you're going to say that this isn't something to be upset about, but it's not just this time. It's every time. You're careless, not just about yourself but everyone else too."

"You're right, Nadia," Marthel said. "C'mon, let's go to that milkshake place Sverre showed us and then we'll figure out where to go."

00000000

"What happened here?" Kraasta asked, surveying the battlefield littered with injured dragons and dead Gruul clansmen.

"I…" Lisandra began. "I'm not sure. But I think I like it?"

"No gaping portal, no dragon army, looks like your angels cleaned up here."

"So we didn't really need to do anything?" Lisandra asked.

"Well, you kept the song away from the girl. That'll work for me. I'm going home." Kraasta sighed and planeswalked back to her hut on what used to be Jund. "I missed you, hut," the viashino said, sitting down in her favorite chair.

Lisandra sighed. "What am I going to do now?" The back of her hands tingled. "Oh, you want to talk?"

She raised her hands to her eyes. This time Phenax showed her an image of Theros. "Getting out of here probably is a good idea. Let me pack."

000000000

"Robes?" Odom asked.

"Check." Ashleigh scribbled on her notepad.

"Alchemy set?"

"Check."

"Spaghetti?"

"Check." She hefted the covered pot off the ground and held it on her hip.

"Is that everything?"

"Yup. I'm excited. You know how much I love unicorns."

"Just don't try to feed them spaghetti."

"That was one time, and it was a pegasus."

"Alright, let's go."

Odom arrived on Acornum with no problems. The rainbow-pebbled beach stretched out in either direction, fading into mangroves that formed romantic arches over the sparkling seawater. Shrieking harpies sat hunched on the jagged rocks that made up barrier islands, protecting this serene location from the worst of the sea's violence.

Ashleigh did not arrive. She slammed into something in the blind eternities and was tossed, sphaghetti and all, onto a plane she couldn't identify at first. Her precious spaghetti was spilled all over familiar yellow and blue robes. Brock wiped a pile of noodles off his face.

"You?" they cried in unison.

 **AN: EMOTIONS! PROBLEMS! INEFFECTUAL HELP! TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR WHAT THE HELL IS KRICKETT DOING?**


	26. Chapter 26

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 25: How to Cope with Failure

Sa'Raah landed on the soft sands of Tarkir's desert. Her knees sank into the sun-warmed grains that shifted in the strong wind, but she did not feel their heat nor that of the sun. She stared downwards at her hands being buried by the sands and hardly even breathed. Her wide eyes looked past the golden desert around her, turning her focus inward onto her thoughts.

Where did she go wrong? Had she initiated the attack too soon? What was the problem with the artifact? Could she find another way to fulfill her destiny? How had it exploded in Marthel's hands so easily? Could she ever show her face to Dragonlord Mizzet again? Could she even go back to Ravnica again? Would Dromoka even let her try again?

Sa'Raah's breathing accelerated. Her heart began to pound. She felt her hands and feet going numb. She'd failed, proven her weakness to the clan. The clan was only as strong as their weakest member, and that was Sa'Raah. She couldn't cut it in the wilds of Jund, and she couldn't even cut it here where she had an entire brood of dragons to back her up. She'd disappointed her mother, and the blessings of Dromoka could be rescinded as they were given. She reached up with one sand-covered hand and felt the parts of her face that had been turned into a that of dragon by her mother's magic. Her precious scales that marked her as special among the clan could be stripped from her and then what would she be to them? Without the status this dragonscale boon conferred, she wouldn't be the daughter of Dromoka anymore.

Where would she go? Could she go back to Naya, or what used to be Naya? Would the Cylian elves even recognize her after so much time? Would she recognize them? How would she go back to being Baeli when she had the soul of a dragon? She didn't want to be alone again.

Sa'Raah felt the sand beside her shift heavily. Strong wings threw the coarse grains into the air with gusts of wind as the great elder dragon of the Dromoka settled beside her favored bipedal child.

"What ails, daughter," Dromoka said in her mother tongue. "I can feel your distress from across the void."

Sa'Raah couldn't bring herself to look at the dragon's sandstone scales reflecting the sun as brightly as the beams of light the brood exhaled. A massive claw slid under Sa'Raah's chin, drawing the elf's attention up to the parent she so feared disappointing. The arid heat of the desert drew away Sa'Raah's tears faster than she could cry them.

"You must preserve your water, child," Dromoka said maternally. The sobs wracking her child's form were so small compared to the dragon that she hardly felt them. It was only the visual expression of Sa'Raah's anguish that could give the dragon insight.

"I…" Sa'Raah began. She clung to Dromoka's talon like a baby rhino clung to its dam. "I… I failed."

Dromoka let out a sigh and settled herself into the hot desert sand for what she was sure would be a long talk.

"Child, when my clan was born into this world from the ashes of the Abzan I made a decision for myself. My brood and my clan would live as one in solidarity, bringing success to the whole by the efforts of the parts. Your goal was lofty and admirable, but you undertook it alone."

"I was the only one that could do it, though. You said it yourself, I'm a void walker."

"You are, but that does not mean the efforts should fall only on your shoulders. The clan misses you. Come stay home for a while and we will all think of a plan for your dreams together." Dromoka's voice, though loud, was never raised.

Sa'Raah sniffled and sneezed, feeling sand grating the inside of her nostrils with each breath. "You still want me in the clan?"

Dromoka laughed a deep, rumbling, warm laugh like a sun-soaked rock on a dragon's cold belly. "When have I ever demanded perfection of my brood? Our paths are ever changing like the sands of this desert. We will meet adversity head on and attack it with the strength of our numbers."

Sa'Raah's grip on Dromoka's claw became a warm embrace rather than desperate. Yes, Dromoka mused to herself, her void walker daughter held a special place in the elder dragon's heart. When Dromoka was birthed from Ugin's dragonstorms she'd felt that call of the spaces between, the spaces Dromoka herself could not go.

"Besides," Dromoka said, "there is a man who has taken up residence with us awaiting your return."

"Sarkhan?" Sa'Raah's eyes lit up with glee. She never thought he'd leave his cavern in the icy north governed by Atarka for very long. He could be left alone there to ponder and muse on the nature of dragons and his place in this world as neither man nor dragon.

Dromoka smiled. Of all the Dragonlords of Tarkir she believed herself to be the only one that wanted her children to be happy. Atarka cared for nothing but food, her thoughts as primitive as her desires. Kolaghan's capriciousness and obsession with conquest drove her clan to madness and ruin. Silumgar hid like a coward in his rainforest home where his clan plotted and schemed against each other for power and favor in the Dragonlord's eyes. Even the calm, intelligent Ojutai fostered an environment where his clan vied for his attention and approval, creating situations where brother turned against brother in the pursuit of his version of enlightenment. Studying, knowledge, meditation, what purpose did they serve but to isolate individuals from the bliss of a collective moving as one?

"Come, child, we must return home." Dromoka scooped Sa'Raah up in her claws and ferried the planeswalker across the sands to the clan's central fortress. The sandblasted remains of the heretical kin-trees dotted the landscape. Dromoka willed the souls trapped there to rest after being denied their respite for countless generations.

They landed in the middle of the fortress. Sa'Raah hopped to the ground and eagerly greeted her clan. She had missed the sun-browned faces of the humans, the warm smiles of the ainok hound folk, and the smell of freshly spread rhino-dung over their small gardens that clung to the edges of this oasis. Her dragon brothers patrolled the skies, ever vigilant for incursions from Dromoka's mad sister, Kolaghan, and her brood of lightning spitters.

Rarely did a member of the Dromoka leave the clan for so long. Sa'Raah had to think on her feet to answer questions about the special mission she had gone on for their benevolent mother. Before she ran out of ideas, a red dragon smaller than the sandstone colored ones wheeling back and forth in the midday sun descended from the sky. His presence was tolerated by Dromoka and her brood. A being who bridged the gap between man and dragon was a valuable asset to the clan. His attachment to Sa'Raah would eventually cause him to settle in their lands. That was the hope, at least, and Dromoka herself knew the value of allies.

"Sarkhan!" Sa'Raah called, waving her arms wildly to get his attention. The red dragon landed in a clear spot some distance away and had resumed the form of a man in time for the elf to throw her arms around him. "I missed you. You could have come with me."

"You know my place is here, Sa'Raah," he said, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "One of us has to watch over Tarkir."

"It'll be the two of us," Sa'Raah replied. "Things didn't go so well." Her face fell and she hid against his chest that smelled of dragonfire.

"I had a feeling it would happen that way," Sarkhan said.

"I'm staying for a while," Sa'Raah said. "Mother says I need to regroup and reestablish my connection with the clan. I think she's right. My clan is my greatest strength, after all."

Sarkhan breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't think the universe was ready for two draconic forces warring for interplanar supremacy, not while the threat of Bolas still lingered.


End file.
